Born With A Smile
by Red Squirrel Writer
Summary: How much do we really know about Timon's childhood? Where his father went? Where his desire to live alone and unaided came from? This is his story, from birth to his fateful meeting with a certain warthog...
1. New Kat In Town

A/N: So… this is what happened when I was watching "Behind the Legend" on the TLK 1 1/2 DVD. It got me thinking… does anyone really know how Timon's life was as a child and up? Or how he lost his father? What about his desire to live alone and unaided? Well, here we are. Going "Behind the Legend" in quite a bit more than five minutes! Unfortunately, Peter Graves couldn't be reached for narration this time.

Disclaimer: I don't own Timon, Max, his Ma, his real dad, or the Lion King franchise in general. However, all characters in this story not featured in the other movies are indeed mine, and copyrighted to me.

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The first day of spring arrived at the stroke of midnight right after the last day of winter. This day would forever be known as the day one of the most adorable, precious meerkats in the entire colony of Shombay was born. Nobody knew it yet, but this was one of those special occasions that would go down in history as a life changing moment. This particular meerkat would go on to live in memory as one of the bravest, least understood creatures of his day. From the moment he was uncovered by his mother to the rest of the colony, an outside observer could tell the little one would be a force to be reckoned with, once he discovered who he truly was.

Timon was born that day too, and even at around the same time, coincidentally. However, he wasn't exactly the most precious, adorable creature to be found. Down in his tunnel, his proud mother Meeca was displaying him to the only four (well, technically three) creatures that had gathered the interest to be there and remain this long: Meeca's best friend Shakina and her fairly sleepy kit Daren, the rest of the family was elsewhere, Timon's father Danso, who was smiling like the day Meeca became his mate, and Danso's brother Max, who was scowling like usual. The surly meerkat had always had the reputation as being a stickler, and not even Meeca, talking over the thin wails of Timon, could get him to crack a smile.

"Come on now, Max, you should be happy!" she said with a weary, small grin. It had been four hours since Timon had been born, but she was still regaining some of her strength. Timon had been quite a pawful.

"I'll be happy when this little furball gets meat on his arms so he can dig!" he snapped. Danso's smile immediately faded, and he thumped Max on the stomach.

"Oy, Max! That 'furball' there is my son, and for the eighth time, his name is 'Timon.' Call him proper or I'll make sure Shombay has you one sentry duty for a month," he snapped, his voice completely serious. Danso hadn't been named 'reliable' for nothing. He was quite an upstanding member of the colony, and well respected by their mob leader Shombay. He had always performed his duties to the letter, an obedient, productive member of meerkat society. The only reason nobody else was here to celebrate his child's birth was because that other kit was Mosi's, he reflected bitterly as he looked about the empty chamber.

Max rubbed his abdomen and glared, his gaze softening just a tad when he looked down at the little kit, who's wailing was reduced to simple, subdued mewling after some comforting coos from his mother.

"Well… the kid does look like he's got potential."

"'The kid?'" repeated Danso. Max sighed. He had never liked being bossed around, or told what to do under any circumstance… one of the reasons he had never found a mate.

"Timon looks like he's got lots of potential," he corrected with a bland smile. Danso nodded firmly.

"And what a proper name it is," remarked Shakina. "That head of his looks strong enough to move a boulder!" Meeca was too proud of the occasion to be bothered by the comment, whether or not it was a compliment. She simply nodded and smiled down at Timon, who stared out at the world with his barely opened eyes. The kit in Shakina's arms squirmed. He was old enough to have all his fur, but was still very much a kit. He looked down at Timon, blinking owlishly. Shakina smiled at her son's curiosity and knelt down, leaning forward. Daren reached out a tiny paw and gently touched Timon's shoulder, but unfortunately this disturbed him enough to begin crying again. Shakina laughed and withdrew, throwing back her fairly long blond head fur.

"I can tell they'll be best friends already." Meeca was silent, simply cuddling the kit against her chest. Danso and Max looked on, both proud of the female in their own ways, Max's way certainly quieter and rougher than Danso's. The slight, permanent scowl was back on his face. Meeca finally tore her gaze away and looked up at Shakina.

"You'd better get back to your mate, Shakina. Don't want to miss too much of Mosi's presentation." She pointedly ignored the loud, unified snorts coming from Max and Danso's direction. Shakina rolled her eyes and sighed, adjusting Daren.

"Ugh… I know, I know. Don't want Oji mad at me. Come on Daren, let's go see daddy…" she said to her kit as she moved off up the tunnel. Daren tried to repeat "daddy", but succeeded only in a muddled, "Dam-da!" Meeca smiled after the two and then turned to Max and Danso.

"You know, you boys really should show at least a façade of respect for the guy…"

"Mosi's an arrogant creep and we all know it!" barked Max. "Well… all of us here, anyway."

"It's only his glib tongue that got that guy where he is," added Danso with a shadowy tone. "It's him who should be here respecting our child! I refuse to go up there while my son lies still a newborn." Meeca sighed. Mosi was definitely one thing that Max and Danso agreed on whole-heartedly. The sly meerkat wasn't necessarily bad-hearted. But he was something of an opportunist, and the intense rivalry and hatred between he, Max, and Danso since they were kits hadn't helped matters. He was a handsome thing, to be sure, and could dig tunnels like everybody else. But when it came to valor and honesty… well, Mosi wasn't exactly a paragon of those ideals.

"Oh, you males and your rivalries. Mosi is a respected member of this colony, and he deserves the same honors as us," she explained patiently. Danso sighed. Her great, golden heart was one of the reasons he loved her so, but in situations like this, it could get exceedingly trying, especially when he was trying to vent his frustrations.

"Mosi's just a load of talk," he muttered bitterly, unwilling to concede and look Meeca in the eyes. She sighed with resigned affection nand spoke up again after a few moments of silence.

"Come here, you two, come hold Timon," she said. "I want him familiar with all of us!" Max let Danso take the honor first. The strong bodied male knelt down slowly, his eyes wide as he looked over his first and only son. Before, when some of the other colony members had had the courtesy to come by, he was all smiles and the modest receiver of congratulations. He had remained at the front of the tunnel entrance, keeping his distance from both Meeca and his baby boy. Now that they were so close, he didn't know if he could handle it. He had never had the softest fur or the lightest touch, and the kit looked so small and fragile. Danso's frame was, among meerkats, considered quite durable and handsome, in a very rough kind of way. Little Timon looked like he could be crushed just by touching him. The older male swallowed nervously. They were two worlds apart and they had barely been together for half a day.

Danso felt his throat tighten as he leaned forward, looking terrified and overcome with joy at the same time. He held up shaky paws, his breathing slow and shallow. Meeca gently pushed out and placed Timon into his father's grasp. Danso was so scared of dropping the little bundle; he quickly pulled the kit to his chest. Surprisingly, the small bump did not disturb Timon, who gurgled as he smelled something new and felt something warm like his mother. Danso carefully wrapped his arms closer around the child, sniffling as his eyes watered, a smile slowly beginning to creep over his face. He coddled Timon as close as he could, a wave of intense protectiveness washing over him. The kit nuzzled into his fur, and Danso had to struggle to keep himself from bursting out laughing. Instead it came out as a mix between a sob and a gasp. Meeca felt herself beginning to tear up herself at the sight of her big, tough mate trying to be tender. It reminded her of the clumsy time he had asked her to be his mate.

Max remained stoic as always, but the scowl was gone.

"For so long… so long I've dreamed about this," whispered Danso to himself and Timon. The child was too small to understand, but he was too happy to care. A single tear ran down his fur. "My future… I've made my own future at last. I helped make you..."

The tear dropped down off his cheek and plopped onto the kit's forehead. He stirred slightly, and Danso bent down and kissed the spot where the tear had landed.

"Timon," he said with a smile, which the kit seemed to return with the barest upturning of his lips as he curled sleepily against his father.

"My son is born with a smile," said Danso proudly.


	2. Old Hatreds and New Lessons

A/N: Somehow… my chapters seem a little short so far. What do you guys think?

Disclaimer: I don't own the Lion King. Do I have to put this in every chapter?

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Danso had only left long after Max had gone back to early morning digging crew, and his son and mate were sound asleep, curled up next to each other in the nest. His brother had left fairly quickly after about eight seconds of holding Timon at arm's length, giving him hastily back to Danso, then excusing himself. Poor Max would probably always be that way, thought Danso with more than a little amusement. He couldn't tell, seeing as how they were all living deep underground, but the sun was rising quickly over the horizon above his head. He was still in something of a daze. He was a father now. The smile that had been on his face as he held Timon in his arms seemed glued in place over his lips, and he didn't really care for it to go away anytime soon. He had finally begun to fulfill his purpose! Danso took the moment to lean against the wall of the tunnel he was strolling down, putting his arm over his eyes, sighing in happiness. He wished his own father was here to see this, to see his son finally doing what he was supposed to. While he had held his son, he had vowed that he would do everything in his power to ensure Timon grew up to be an upstanding meerkat. None of that craziness he had been involved in when he was a pup, oh no sir. He had been doubted at first, but he had showed them all, and lived up to his name in due time. Timon would be no different.

So absorbed was he in his blissful, yet vain self-assurances that for he and his family life would be perfect in the coming years, he did not notice another meerkat meandering down the path towards him, his expression unreadable. It was quite obvious from the top of his brown-furred head to the bottoms of his powerful feet, he had the rights to brag, at least where looks came in. Harsh, yet bright hazel eyes espied Danso sitting against the wall, and the meerkat smirked, moving forward to throw a monkey (wrenches weren't invented yet) into Danso's daydreaming.

"So… I hear tell that you finally pulled yourself together and got a proper family. And here I thought you were just fooling us by living together…" Danso jumped at the sudden intrusion, looking up, eyes first widening, and then narrowing to dangerous slits as he realized who he was sharing his personal space with.

"Mosi," he said, but his voice held no hint of greeting as he stood up and dusted himself off. That was all he said to his childhood hater, and so Mosi picked up the barbs where he had left off.

"So what'd you call the fuzzball?"

"I don't think that's any of your concern," replied Danso slowly, levelly. For Meeca's sake and her constant placations, he tried to keep his temper in check.

"Well, soon enough it will be. My boys will need it so they can point your own son out for proper humiliation. It's about time you had some of your own."

"Oh, really?" replied Danso, voice bitter as he crossed his arms over his chest. "What makes you so sure your children put together will be half as good as mine?" Mosi only smirked.

"I only play with a stuffed log, Danso, you know that. What I am sure of is what will happen. What will happen is that your arrogance will end with this generation! One puny runt like yours won't stand a chance in the world outside, Dan-!"

"Are you saying you'd go far enough to ensure that!" growled the other male, shoving his nose up against Mosi's as his pas clenched into fists. "Go ahead and say it. I wouldn't put it past you and your ilk. But I swear, Mosi… on my good mother's bones, I swear I will tear you to pieces if you put so much as a claw near my boy! You will not touch the greatest accomplishment of my life. One that I will make sure excels all of yours!"

"You have quite the mouth, Danso!" replied Mosi savagely, shoving back as hard as Danso pushed forward. He was sure to get a bruise out of this. "You didn't even have the respect to see my child and you think yours is better off the spot! More of your hypocrisy, mob favorite!" he snapped, using that old mocking nickname he had for Danso.

"I got where I am out of the virtue of my own decency and hard work, Mosi!" Danso shot back, almost yelling now. "You? You don't even deserve the name of meerkat. You and all your self centered… talk! Ya maggot molester!"

"Termite tweaker!"

"Hyena helper!"

"Dung chewer!"

"I oughta rip your head off for that one!"

"As if! You hardly got to the third rung in the wrestling matches!" Spittle was now flying easily from each meerkat's mouth with each shout as they both tried to shove each other to the ground with merely their chests and noses, which were on the point of breaking.

"At least _my _mother was there to see me _try!" _grated Danso in a biting whisper, knowing he had struck a very, very sensitive nerve, but his anger had dragged him beyond the point of caring. The punch that Mosi threw, easily knocking him to the ground, seemed to knock some sense into him. When he finally gathered his senses enough to look up, blinking owlishly to clear the stars that paraded back and forth in front of his vision, he could see a wild light in Mosi's eyes. It was pure, unadulterated rage that clouded his vision now.

"You think you can speak of another's family with such high and mighty speech, eh?" said Mosi in a whisper. "Think you can have your little triumph since your whelp was born? I got ahead of you, Dan. I always have been, and I'll remain there. You just watch."

"What is going on here?" came a stern, demanding voice to their left. Both 'kats swiveled their heads to look at the powerful, wise face of Shombay, their mob leader. He glowered at the two in front of him like they were fleas he was about to pinch between his fingers. He was a very well muscled meerkat, standing tall at sixteen inches. His tough, righteous demeanor had made him seemed destined to be ruler of the colony, and it was that visage that was now pinning the other two meerkats in place, unable to speak for several moments as they tried to comprehend the situation. Shombay's role was not exactly instrumental though, he simply made all the very hard, very important decisions that affected the colony long term. Still, his station, power, and strength were undeniable. Behind Shombay stood a good number of the rest of the colony, and they all looked rather shocked or confused. Apparently, another meerkat, a youngster, had heard the arguing and did the first thing that popped into his head: get Shombay to clear the matter up. The kit stood at Shombay's side, sucking his thumb quietly. The blow that Mosi had given to Danso had been seen by almost everyone there, at the least, the important one, Shombay.

"Sir," began Mosi calmly before Dan could get a word out. "This wretch on the floor deliberately insulted my honor and family! I couldn't contain myself, I couldn't stand by and see my future disgraced… I am sorry." The light was gone from his eyes as he bowed his head, unclenching his fist. Shombay turned his piercing grey eyes to Danso.

"Is it true, Danso? Did you insult Mosi?" said Shombay in his gruff, short voice that he used with everybody save his own mate and children, now destined to follow in his paw steps. Danso struggled upright, breathing hard. Mosi had pinned the blame on him and he hadn't even gotten a word out! He slowly pointed a shaky paw at Mosi.

"Sir, he… he started it! He began bad-mouthing my child, and it… it escalated!"

"Quiet," said Shombay suddenly, quietly, but still somehow loud enough for everyone assembled to hear. "I don't care who 'started it' or why. This in-fighting is inexcusable, especially between two of our brightest colony members! Return to your proper duties at once."

Danso knew better than to speak up. Obedient as always, he hung his head and nodded, feeling foolish. His outburst had looked childish compared to Mosi's tempered apology. Despite his reliability, strength, and willingness to (most of the time) do what was right, words had never really been his forte. He had actually stuttered for at least a whole minute before finally asking Meeca to be his mate. Dusting himself off, he turned away from Mosi. They went in opposite directions, but Danso still could not help but give the last word to himself.

_I'll show you, Mosi… you may have had the upper paw before… but my son will be a champion! A proper meerkat! You'll see. He'll be a paragon of our kind. He'll be something great._

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_3 months later_

"No, son, that's not a bug. It's a rock."

"But why's it there, dad?"

"Because if we moved it, water would come in, and everything would be very wet, and then we'd have to work very hard to clear it all out again!"

"But it's all round and smooth like a bug… and wasn't this the east section? I thought the spring was on the west side."

"Oy… Timon, this _is_ the west section! East is never the part where all the moss grows. I told you that not three days ago! And trust me, pup… that's not a bug."

"Oh… okay."

"Right. So never, ever touch that rock. We're so far from the main construction so we can just get some practice in on the redundant tunnels… we don't want a repeat of the time you got curious with the support struts in the central annex…"

Three months now after Timon had been born, and his training had been going hard for the past few weeks. Actually, hard was an understatement. It was a grinding, slow, monotonous process that meant nothing but constant foul-ups and just as many butting of heads. Timon was trying, but ever since he had been able to walk, it seemed he and dirt didn't mix. Just three weeks ago Timon had buried half the digging team by removing an extremely important support stick from its position, thinking that since it was in the middle of the hall everyone would like it removed. It had been a miracle nobody was killed, and Max and Danso had been furious. So, here they now were, virtually alone and out of the way where nobody could point and stare. Danso stopped in front of a section of wall (not the one pointing to the spring), and flexed his paws.

"Now watch, son, when you're digging, the key is to get a good grip."

"Good grip, gotcha."

"Firmly clamp your claws into the dirt, and drag in, and down."

"That's it?" said Timon, rather confused. The way he had seen some meerkats power through their tunnels, there must have been some magic technique.

"That's it. In, and down. Like ahh… a paddling motion," said Danso, going further and further into his newly excavated hole. He planned to dig a small tunnel, and then show Timon how to properly brace the ceilings. The little kit, though, had other ideas. He rubbed his paws together and had moved down to a bend in the tunnel, at the beginning of an intersection that led back to the main part of the colony. He wriggled his tail and clawed into the earth with enthusiasm. Seeing as his father had tried to create a tunnel that would fit him standing up, Timon tried to do the same.

Danso clambered out of his own tunnel, speaking to himself though he thought Timon was directly behind him.

"Now then, Timon, once you've got a good start, you need to learn about things called weight distribution and centers of gravity…" He looked about in a fright when he noticed his son no longer there. When his eyes fell on the pup, a gigantic hole had been gouged into the wall Timon was working at. Danso's throat tightened and he squeaked out a warning as he ran forward.

"Timon, wait!" He managed to grab his son and curl up over him, shielding him from the avalanche of dirt from the collapse of the tunnel all around them. Sunlight suddenly beat down on Danso's back. He heaved upwards and yanked Timon to the surface. Shaking debris from their fur, they surveyed the damage. All around them, the wing had collapsed quite handily, leaving just a great dirty pile of clay and earth in its wake. Several meerkats peered out of tunnels that suddenly opened into the air that once had been sheltered by firm clay ceilings. Timon whistled in shock.

"Ohhh my…" whispered Danso to himself. Max was already stalking towards them, covered in sand and not looking happy at all.

"What have you two idiots done!" he demanded. Danso stood up and began dusting he and Timon off quickly, trying to stammer out a reply.

"Ahh, heh, well, see, I was trying to teach my son how to dig here…"

"Dig?" repeated Max incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "You're saying he caused all of this!" Danso cleared his throat as Timon tried to hide behind his father from the questioning gazes sent their way by every meerkat in view.

"Well, it wasn't _entirely_ his fault…"

"Can't you see what you've done?" snapped Max, waving a paw at the two. Danso was taking it in stoically. Timon looked ready to cry and wished only that the tunnel collapse had swallowed him up.

"You've destroyed half of this sections upper floors! It'll take weeks to tear down the damaged areas and make it safe to travel in again!"

"Max…" said Danso with a warning tone in his voice.

"Your precious kit has put us in danger for the better part of a month! A month!"

"_Max…"_

"I'd like to know what you're going to say to Shombay. He's gonna be furious when he finds time to talk to you!"

"MAX!" shouted Danso, his voice sharp and his gaze even sharper. His breathing was deep and slow; he would brook no argument when it came to discussing his only son. Timon gasped and stood back. He had never seen his father this angry before.

"I know what happened, I'm not blind. I can see what I allowed Timon to do. I take full blame, and if you don't mind shutting up for one moment, I'd like to try explaining to him what happened before I get my head bitten off by Shombay!" Max growled under his breath and turned away, fuming as he went to report the incident to Shombay, who no doubt was already on his way to investigate. Danso sighed and knelt next to Timon.

"I did something bad, didn't I?" the kit muttered. Danso picked his words carefully, taking a while in answering.

"Ahh… yes, Timon, you did… but it wasn't your fault by any means. I should have kept a better watch on you…"

"Yeah, but I dug the tunnel," answered a morose Timon. Danso's shoulders fell. He felt helpless, knowing his son would take the blame for this despite all he said.

"Dan," said a meerkat behind them. "Shombay wants to talk to you." Danso stood up slowly and ruffled Timon's head fur.

"I'll speak to you later, kit. Go play with Daren or something." He stood upright and turned away, head bowed. A small voice stopped him.

"Dad?" said Timon. Danso turned back and smiled.

"What is it, pup?"

"He's not really going to bite your head off, is he?" Danso chuckled.

"Of course not. Your mother would kill him!" Timon gulped, then turned away, only slightly relieved as he went to find his only friend in the world. After he spent some quality time moping alone in the tunnels for causing all this trouble himself first, of course. However, his chance was delayed as Meeca came running up to him, embracing him with all the power of a grown lion.

"Oh, Timmy! My little Timmy, are you all right? Are you hurt? Danso, is he hurt?" exclaimed the female several times over as she checked him over for any bruises or injuries. Timon groaned at the attention and tried to push her away.

"Mom… I'm fine, really… just…cut it out with the hair already!" he snapped as his mother began fussing with his unruly head fur. She pulled away and stood up, sighing.

"Oh, Timon… what happened?" she asked rhetorically as he observed the wreckage. Timon sighed once more and began walking towards a still functioning tunnel.

"_I_ happened, that's what…" he muttered, kicking away a small stone. Meeca reluctantly allowed him to leave, unsure whether to comfort her son or go help Danso confront Shombay with the disaster. Shakina came up behind her old friend and placed a paw on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, he'll be all right… both of them will. I'll tell Daren to go find Timon." Meeca looked back despondently at her companion. Both had been friends since kit hood.

"Thank you, Shakina," she said. Something bad was going to come of this, she just knew it. Giving one last despairing glance to the retreating back of Danso, she turned back to assist fixing the tunnels, which would have to be revamped.

The male in question recognized a familiar face as he moved off towards one of the newly opened tunnels. Shombay awaited him inside, standing like a grim specter with his arms at his sides and his eyes lidded. There was a strange feeling of doom for Danso, though it was (almost) completely unfounded. The familiar meerkat, Mosi, chuckled as Danso went by, who only glared at him.

"A real chip off the old block, that one…" said Mosi, sarcasm in his voice. Danso shoved him away with a snarl, disappearing inside to be dressed down by the mob leader. Mosi turned away, going back to helping clear away the damage from Timon's catastrophic excavation. Behind him, he could hear a single, raised, angry voice going down the tunnel, followed closely by a smaller, submissive one that answered in single syllables. He smirked.

True to Danso's predictions, he was getting his head bitten off.


	3. A Close Call and A Firm Decision

A/N: This scene came from when I was looking on the TLK 1 1/2 "Behind the Legend" extra, and there are pictures of Timon getting pushed around and preyed on by some nasty looking folk. So naturally I had to include the beginnings of that in my story. These guys ain't going away anytime soon...

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Four days now had gone by since the collapsed tunnel incident, and it was only now that Timon had even allowed himself to be seen in public. Despite all the urgings from his mother (Danso was constantly busy with rebuilding the collapsed tunnels), the kit couldn't bring himself to show his face now that he knew what everyone would call him. He had hidden in his nest all this time, since just a day after the accident, he could already feel stares and hear names behind him when he wasn't looking. Tunnel klutz, Digging Disaster, Hole Blower, and That One Kit With The Tunneling Problem, just to name a few. Unable to bear the guilt he had fled to the comforting arms of Meeca, who allowed him to stay home at the nest for a while. But eventually he had to go and make life normal for himself again, she had said. The moment the tunnels were fixed again, everyone would forget about it, she had assured him many times. This had cheered Timon some, and even convinced him to go out and test the waters, as it were, on the evening of the fourth day.

Unfortunately, he had neglected to remember that he still had about three and a half weeks of derision until the tunnels were finished being repaired, so everyone would have a face to connect to the wreck. He had been heading to the central annex, very anxious to see if he could find his friend Daren, who had been looking to see him after all these days. He was probably the only meerkat outside of Timon's family thattruly enjoyed being around him, what with his already rather firm reputation of being a goofball. This latest accident would probably only further that along. Timon was moving down the main lower transit tunnel that led to his home in the South Wing, when he suddenly found himself cornered by several meerkats he always wished to never see again when he was done "talking" to them. The first and foremost of this dastardly quintet was none other than Mosi's eldest son, Gamba. Fully a month older than Timon, he was a rather imposing figure with fiery red hair not unlike Timon's own, with an arrogant air about him. Even some of the young adult meerkats stayed away from him, if just to avoid his sharp tongue and nasty disposition for picking fights with those who displeased him. Mosi did some things to keep him in line (in public at least), but most everyone knew that the youngster was basically a favored brat of Danso's old enemy, and had been brought up with the very same hatred of Timon and his family that Mosi had been all too willing to pass on.

The second that came to match Gamba in size and strength was a nasty piece of work named Tupac. Fully three weeks older than Gamba, he was the designated "bodyguard" of sorts for the younger 'kat. He wasn't half as smart as Gamba for all his size, and hid this behind a taciturn demeanor and an even greater propensity towards engaging annoying people in wrestling matches than his smaller cohort. Considered something of a brute, it was the hope of Uncle Max that somebody would one day beat some sense into the poor boy so he could get away from following Gamba and go join the digging crew. Hopefully this would happen soon, but unfortunately for Timon, it was not today.

The third member of the little gang, and the third oldest, was Pili. He was Gamba's second brother and was destined to be part of somebody's retinue when he grew up. Thin and wiry, just a few weeks older than Timon, he didn't look particularly threatening, but he did what he was told and did it well. Making things worse for poor Timon (and why not?), today's chore happened to be, as described by Gamba, "Make the runt wish he never showed his face again."

Numbers four and five were Paki and Pupa, best of friends who had grown up alike. For one thing they both were at Gamba's mercy as well. Aside from that, they didn't look at all the same. Pupa was the youngest of the five, squat and scruffy, while Paki was about the same age as Pili, with a fairly well defined musculature for a meerkat of his age. He wasn't dumb, and didn't exactly enjoy following the orders of Gamba all the time. Poor Pupa only followedPili's lead, figuring if Paki did it, he should too. However they had both made the mistake of befriending the little sod Gamba at a very young age. When Tupac had joined up, there was very little incentive to offend their new "employer."

Timon had wanted to escape their merciless attentions, today especially, since it was his first out again (they had probably been just waiting for him). He shrank into the tunnel wall with a groan, but this only made it easier for the bullies to surround him.

"Well, would you look at this," sneered Gamba, smiling a smile that wasn't at all friendly. It was something very rarely seen on a meerkat's face, especially one so young… it was predatory. "It's Danso's little runt come to see if everyone's forgotten about him!"

"None too hard to do that," snapped Pili, quick to follow his brother's lead. "He's hardly even up to Tupac's chin!" Tupac grunted in assent, with the stony, stern look of a bouncer on him. Seeing the younger kit beginning to shake, Gamba put on a friendly face and clapped a paw to Timon's shoulder, making him jump.

"Aww, wassa matter? Is the little ditz afraid? Hey, come on now, you don't really think we're just here to make fun of you again, do you? We've had a bit of trouble waiting so long for our little friend." Timon could only look up wide-eyed, petrified with fear and his already slim shoulders sagging from the hopelessness of his predicament. He gulped loudly, trying to answer Gamba. He could only shake his head, hoping beyond hope that the expression Gamba was wearing was sincere. The older meerkat waved a paw in the air between the two of them in a hurry up motion, not seeing the almost imperceptibly tiny motion of Timon agreeing.

"Come on, Timon. We're buds! Pals! Amigos! Surely you don't think that we'd go to all this trouble to find you _just _to put dirt in your fur and scrub your face into a wall like we did last time? Hmm? Don't got all day, Timon." The aforementioned kit made his head shaking more vigorous. Gamba smiled with what seemed to be great satisfaction.

"Well good," he drawled with a softness that was completely insincere, lending Timon a great deal of false hope. He began bending down to look Timon in the eyes. "We're not here to tease ya, Wally," he explained softly and nicely, using the shortened version of one of Timon's nicknames "Wall Whacker." It had appeared within hours of the reasons behind the great collapse a few days ago going public. Suddenly, Gamba's face turned into a scowl, and a quite dark one at that as he revealed their true intentions for hunting him down whilst he was still alone… alone and vulnerable.

"We're here to _hurt_ you." Timon whimpered, his blood going cold and freezing in his veins. A vice clamped down on his heart as he tried to comprehend the finality of that statement. As if getting dirt dumped on his head and being labeled as a dumb ditty weren't bad enough. This was a whole new step up from the antics of two months ago after Timon's first few accidents. He was only three and a half months old! Surely they wouldn't do this? Couldn't they at least wait until he was a couple inches taller?

"You caused a lot of trouble for a lot of meerkats, Timon," explained Paki.

"My dad never liked cleaning up messes made by your folks," growled Gamba.

"I've already been put on reserve digging crew. First shift is next week!" said Tupac. He never had a disposition towards tunneling. He figured himself more of a sentry type of 'kat. This was more than enough affront to him to get angry. Gamba nodded sympathetically.

"They're right Timon. You aren't shaping up to be a very good little meerkat. Think a couple knocks over the head will straighten you out once and for all? Well, that's what we're here to find out."

Timon's mouth opened and closed like a fish, desperately seeking answers. What on Earth was he supposed to _say?_ Would an apology help? Why did they have to do this to _him?_ He looked up and down the tunnel, but knew no help was coming, not any time soon. This was normally a busy tunnel, but almost all the colony was working on repairs, and most of the females were busy handling the kits at the nursery and getting food and the like. Things were not looking good at all for Timon's immediate future.

"I'm… I'm sorry!" squeaked a hapless Timon, now close to tears with how terrified he was. "I didn't know what was gonna happen! I never do! I swear! It was an accident! You gotta believe me! I didn't mean any of this! Please!" He pressed himself against the wall as hard as he could, somehow hoping that he would melt into the dirt and get away. But there was no salvation there, and his begging only seemed to annoy them more. Gamba's grip fell away and he pointed down a redundant side tunnel, no longer used since its previous owner was killed by an eagle months ago, and had yet to be torn down.

"Over here," he said with a dead sort of surety. Timon tried to yell for help, but Tupac clamped his paw down on him and heaved him bodily. Timon grasped out for a paw hold, his claws leaving runs in the walls while he desperately sought a grip. But it was no use. Tupac was inexorable. Timon was thrown against the wall, hard. The wind was knocked out of him as he fell to the ground, immediately trying to scramble away before realizing it was futile. He could only go so far down the tunnel before it came to an end… and then they would be free to do what they wanted with him. Best stay here where somebody could still see inside the entrance when they came by, so whatever happened would be of less intensity. _If _they came by. Timon's young mind was practically insane was terror, all kinds of horrid things running through his mind. Visions of being found beaten to a bloody pulp days after this occurred in this forgotten little hole in the wall were most common, along with the group in front of him turning into monsters and tearing him to pieces before spitting out his barely conscious remains as the thoughts became worse, the darkness of the tunnel closing in on him. He couldn't believe how small and vulnerable he felt now, and only felt all the more ashamed for it.

"No… I didn't… I don't wanna… _please!"_ he pleaded, but to no visible effect. Gamba, swept up in the adrenaline of the moment, knocked Timon on the side of the head, making him curl up into a whimpering, pathetic ball of fur.

"Quiet, runt, and this will go a lot quicker." Pupa looked a tad unsure.

"Uh… Gamba?" Timon could hear him say. "Is this really okay? I mean, we could just dump some dirt on him and… and stuff…" he trailed off quietly. Timon begged Gamba to listen in his mind. Yes, yes! Just throw dirt on me and call me names again! Smack me over the head like you always do! Just don't _hurt _me!

Alas, Gamba was in no mood to be bossed about by the smallest of their gang. He sighed and looked back at Pupa, an exasperated edge in his voice. "Shut _up_, Pupa, I wanna get this done before mom gets home with lunch."

"Well… I mean…" insisted Pupa, shuffling his footpaws. Gamba groaned and shook his head.

"Fine, _fine,_ we'll only give him a_few_good whacksand then we can mess him up and go home. You can just stand there and watch. Okay? You happy?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned back to Timon, pounding a fist into his paw. Tupac and the rest seemed equally eager to get it on, with no mercy in their frighteningly young eyes. Too young to be taking orders and venting frustrations on one so much younger than they. Timon began openly crying now as he accepted his fate. He curled up as tightly as he could, protectively covering his head with his little paws, deciding just to hide his face through the ordeal. If he didn't have to look at them, they wouldn't be there to haunt him in his nightmares tonight… but he wouldn't even be afforded that small mercy. Gamba motioned to his comrades.

"Get him up! Can't hit anyone proper like this." Timon struggled with all his might, but he was suddenly standing, exposed and against the wall, his arms pinned by the might of Tupac. He gritted his teeth, and scrunched his eyes shut as tightly as they could go. It made the slight pounding in his temple where had been struck throb all the worse.

"Don't worry kid," he heard Pili say. "We aren't going to let anything happen… nothing _permanent _anyway."

"Heh. Better make sure he can't talk for a while after this at least," mentioned Tupac as they all closed in for the kill.

"_No…"_ was the last terrified whisper Timon could force out before he could feel the first blow being prepared…

"GAMBA!" shouted a young, strong voice from the entrance to the tunnel, causing all assembled to freeze with shock. The bullies gasped and spun around, dropping their victim instantly. Timon looked up, his eyes wider than they had ever been before in his life. He could recognize that voice anywhere! And lo, his guess was correct. Striding down the tunnel with purpose was his one real friend in the entire world, Daren. He was flanked by several other meerkats, all around his age and one younger. His face was scrunched up in a fierce scowl. He had never liked Mosi's family, nor the little gang Gamba had had the nerve to set up and disrupt the peacefulness of the nursery, and the entire colony. Oji had been sure to inform Shakina and Daren about all of Mosi's vanity and faint disdain for anyone below his station. Daren was in fact about half a month younger than Gamba, but he was already a force to be reckoned with. He was looked on with respect by the older ones who met him, and was growing up to be a fine example of a meerkat. He was loyal, obedient, and smart, commanding the respect and affection of almost all the younger meerkats, along with several of the adults that liked his "proper" behavior. He was virtually the child every meerkat couple longed to have, and Oji and Shakina never stopped praising him when they were meeting with friends. Even Tupac wouldn't deliberately pick a fight with him under almost every circumstance. It had taken him a bit longer than most to stop crawling and start walking, to stop babbling and start talking, but once he had, he had proven that a good future was something nothing short of a hyena was going to take from him.

To Timon though, there was only one outstanding feature that made him better than every meerkat he knew (except for dear old mom and dad). He was Timon's _friend._ And right now he was shoving his face right up against Gamba's.

"I think you'd better step down Gamba," he said quietly. The other meerkat glowered at him darkly, but began stepping back slightly when he observed the fierceness in Daren's eyes, surprising everyone with his submissiveness.

"You're pathetic, you know that Daren?" he said suddenly, trying to salvage his pride with verbal abuse. "He's practically useless, almost killed a few meerkats with his idiocy, and _you_ stick up for what's worthless!" he proclaimed, in reference to Timon, who had curled up on the floor again, only hoping that this didn't end badly.

"I stick up for what's right, Gamba. If you're smart you'll do the same! Now go away before I tell Shombay about this!" said Daren with firm conviction. Gamba snorted in quick return.

"Whatever. Shombay doesn't scare me, or my dad. You know this'll be beneath him anyway." He glanced back briefly at Timon. "And _that's _definitely beneath him too."

"Just shut up and beat it, you twerps," came another voice, female, yet strong and rather intense for its age. This was Sauda, a meerkat around a week older than Daren that liked to come off as rough, tough, and hard to bluff. And she wasn't hiding any heart of gold under that fearsome visage either. Her attitude came from her toughened father, her mother having died of disease a week after she was born. She sported blonde head fur and striking hazel eyes.

The bullies knew that it would be stupid to get into a fight with a whole group of other meerkat youngsters. That would draw all kinds of attention they didn't want or need. Muttering darkly to themselves, they passed out into the tunnel beyond. Gamba sent back one last dirty look before disappearing himself. Daren watched them go and sighed. "Whew… that went better than I thought it would."

"They always do for you, Daren," exclaimed Trip, a meerkat that was nearly six months old, but still good friends with Daren. His own younger brother, Dinari, was there with him. He was around Timon's age, but rarely spoke at all. To compensate he always had a smile on his face.

Timon however had anything but that, though. He was sitting with his chin on his knees, a tear running down the side of his face and already drying. Things may go fine and dandy for the other meerkats, but for him? Ha! It was as though fate was playing some great joke on him. Hardly halfway to adulthood and he was already the butt of almost all the colony's jokes, given his track record with the last four times he had tried to dig without proper supervision. Daren sighed and sat down next to him, but the little kit still somehow did not feel the bubble of isolation pierced. Not this time. Not after he had come so close to coming home with a black eye, which would in turn only make his parents worry more and the fighting worse, which would inevitably lead to more black eyes until somebody settled the confrontations... violently. Sauda made a noise that sounded like a disgusted snort at the look on Timon's face and turned away, while Trip and Dinari looked on sympathetically.

"Timon, come on. Those idiots aren't going to bother you anymore." Timon only grunted and slowly stood up, wiping off his snout with a sniffle.

"I hate being this useless," he said. "I'm the only one here anybody bothers to pick on. And now they wanna… well, you know."

"Lay you out cold?" offered Trip.

"Why would they do that?" said Timon, confused. "They weren't threatening to wet me down and leave me outside ya weirdo, they were trying to _beat _me!"

Trip blinked and oh'd understandingly. "Of course, I… don't know what I was thinking."

"Yeah, obviously," said Timon as he rubbed his cheek where the first blow had landed. "So, anyway, I'm pretty bummed at the moment," he continued when nobody seemed interested in continuing the conversation, which made his heart sink lower than it already had been. Daren put a comforting paw on his friend's shoulder, only daring to imagine how his smaller companion must have been feeling.

"Well, obviously you aren't going to be going anywhere alone, then, for now at least," he said with confidence. "Don't worry. Nobody's calling you a klutz while we're around. Right?" he said expectantly, turning back to his comrades. Dinari and Trip nodded agreement, but Sauda seemed less enthusiastic.

"Despite the fact it's true?" she said with an amused smile on her face. Timon looked down in what appeared to be shame. Daren only stared hard at her until she rolled her eyes and threw up her paws.

"Fine, fine, I won't let anybody touch precious little Timmy."

"_Sauda…"_ warned Daren, but she was already heading off down the tunnel again. Daren sighed heavily, but knew she would keep her word. Well, do her best to keep her word. And her best usually only meant if Timon wasn't around she didn't have to do anything about it. But it was enough, from her at any rate. Timon only hung his head.

"Oh, forget her, she's always like that," piped up Dinari, which was answered by an indignant sniff from somewhere around the corner. "I am not!" said Sauda loudly. Trip nodded sadly.

"Unfortunately, yes, she is, as we all know too well. Meanwhile… I think we should forget those lunatics and go have some fun." Daren shook his head.

"I'll catch up in a moment. Somebody's got to hear about what Gamba did. Mosi probably put him up to it too." Timon shivered at hearing that name. Even a kit didn't need to be particularly insightful to know about the conflict that went on between Mosi and Danso, and the implications of some of it.Timon knew his father despised the other meerkat, but he didn't know why they had to continue their feud on to the next generation! Especially when Timon was always outnumbered five to one. He spoke up before Daren could leave.

"Hold up, Daren. Don't bother... mom and dad don't need to see this, they got enough problems already." Daren put his paws on his hips.

"Timon, they were ready to hurt you! I'm not going to stand for that, and when your parents know, they won't either." Timon just scratched the back of his neck and nodded.

"Yeah... that'll be a good thing, I guess." Sure, have mother come running again like she always did. Let dad know how he had to have little perfect Daren swoop in and chase off his oppressors. Even at his age he had to wonder if getting his parents into this mess to stand in his place was a good idea. Daren turned back to the others, and they headed off. Out of view for the moment, Timon put his paw back onto his throbbing temple and drew himself up proudly. He wasn't going to take this sort of thing. Next chance he got, he was going to show those creeps what he was really made of! He wasn't just some weakling to push around, somebody that wouldn't need rescuing at the last moment. This near disaster had shown him how truly fragile he was, and he wasn't going to stand for it! Striding off after his friends, Timon felt a bit of bluster come into his chest. Yeah... those guys wouldn't know what hit them if they tried to mess with Great Timon again.

Well... once he put on another inch or two anyway.


	4. Prelude

The sun was still low in the day, and for that Nakamba was very thankful. He and his clanmate, Rivu, had been traveling the savannah ever since a group of lions invaded their clan's kill, slaughtering the hyenas that stood their ground against them. They had been few in number in the first place, and as far as the emaciated pair knew, they were the only ones left.

So now the two hyenas were struggling across the lands, trying to find something suitable to eat. Twocreatures who normally scavengeddidn't do very well on their own, despite the fact that their hunger had only made crueler and more cunning than they had been before. Rivu began whining before too long, as Nakamba suspected. It had only been four hours and already he was working himself up over something. The two didn't like each other very much, but they both realized their chances of survival were far better for now if they stuck together. Nakamba, though, knew it was only a matter of time before he really followed through with those threats to kill Rivu if he kept mewling and griping.

"Nakamba, are you sure you know where you're going?" he asked in an annoyingly drawn out and simpering tone. Nakamba snorted and nearly nipped his comrade in the ear.

"Of course I do, you idiot! Now shut up! I'm very hungry and don't want to talk."

"I bet I'm hungrier," replied Rivu sulkily. "You always get the best part of any kill we find. You know I wanted the ribs on that half-eaten wildebeest we found a few days ago, but did you let me have it? Noooo."

"Shut up, will you? We're coming up on a buffet soon enough, so keep that slobbering mouth of yours shut so they don't hear us."

"They?" said Rivu, eyes now alight with the possibility for a meal. "They?" he repeated, sounding as foolish as a pup. "Who's they?" he persisted, scooting in closer to Nakamba, who shoved him back with his skinny, but powerful shoulder.

"Meerkats, you dolt! There's a huge colony of them just a ways off from here, and if we're _quiet, _we'll be able to get a few of them at least. I know your mouth runs a lot quicker than your brain, so we should be able to snag a pretty hefty breakfast." He turned suddenly and shoved his snout against Rivu's.

"So don't screw this one up." Rivu stood with his ears folded down for a few moments as Nakamba started off again, but being as irrepressible as he was, he couldn't stay quiet for long.

"So, buddy, Nakamba, pal, what's the plan?" he said, already beginning to drool.

"We willapproach from the north," snarled Nakamba, the predator's light glaring in his eye. "After we set ourselves up on that hill I saw on the north side, you'll circle around to the east and cut them off when I drive them towards their tunnels. You'll be waiting for them when they try to jump for safety. There's plenty of hills and grass to hide in, so not even an idiot like you could mess this one up. When they're bunched together in front of their tunnels, squirming to get inside… that's when we fall on them." Nakamba knew it would be far more difficult than that. However, the two were desperate for just a sliver of meat right now.

Hunger drove them on to a slim gamble, but one that would pay off nicely if they were careful.

-------------------------------

"OW! That was a dirty hit!" yelled Timon as he and Trip rolled down a hill outside. Trip sat up and laughed from where he had landed nearby.

"Ahh, come on, Timon. It ain't my fault you got those spindly little arms!" he teased, prompting Timon to wrap his none too muscular forelegs around him.

"They're not spindly! I just got… thin bones." Daren laughed as he crested the hill, coming down to rejoin them.

"Ha! Maybe you should have eaten more ants when you were little, Timon. I listened to my mother, and look where it got me."

"Yeah, I can tell your good old mum brought _you _up right," said Sauda with undisguised bitterness as she came over the small ridge immediately behind. Daren stopped and watched her go down, spreading his arms.

"Sauda, come on… you know I didn't mean it like that!" She didn't answer as she looked down to the other two males. Trip had secured Timon into a head lock.

"I don't know _what _it is with males and wrestling. What are you morons trying to prove anyway?" Trip easily kept Timon where he was. The small kit struggled to no avail. He wasn't exactly buff for his age, and Trip was just two weeks away from six months.

"Mostly just to secure my place as ego-meister of the group…" replied Trip with a humorous smile as he easily held Timon in place. Timon finally gave up and let his arms hang limp.

"Wow, gee, Trip. You really proved yourself fighting the weakest member of the colony."

"Ohhh, you just need to believe in yourself once in a while, Timon," exclaimed Dinari from where he appeared from behind a rock.

"Yes!" continued Trip happily as he released Timon, who went to work getting a kink out of his neck. "Know you are strong, and you will defeat any foe. I think, therefore I am!"

"Yeah, well, I'd settle for just, 'I eat, therefore I am full,'" snapped Timon as he snapped his neck to the side. There was a loud pop. "Oy! That felt _great…"_

"Better than this!" shouted Daren as the tackled them both to the ground. They all went down with a laugh. Dinari whooped and jumped into the knot of struggling males. "Meerkit mosh!" he shouted.

Sauda stayed where she was, arms crossed, her eyebrow raised condescendingly as the boys struggled about on the ground in front of her, taunting each other and pulling on each other's ears. Shaking her head, she wondered when they would be done so they could actually do something. Contrary to some females, she didn't think of them as "her boys" so much as "those idiots" when this sort of thing happened.Everyone knew she could plow over them if she wanted anyway. At least, _she _was certain of that.

"Any idea when they'll be through?" asked another meerkat, approaching from behind, walking like he knew exactly where he was going with every step. He was a fine looking adult of two years, with sandy brown headfur and large green eyes.

"Tinder, they're never through," replied Sauda sorrowfully. "Can't wait till they're old enough to compete in the wrestling tourneys…" she added with heavy sarcasm. Tinder smirked and stepped forward, knowing they wouldn't get the children's attention if something raucous happened. Within eight seconds (during which Sauda was forced to make several surprised faces) the younger kits were laid out on the ground in front of Tinder, who stood over them proudly.

"Well, I hope you all get better than that before you decide to compete," he announced with a smirk, "because I was only a second tier champion and I _still_ whupped ya." Daren stood up, grinning as he dusted himself off.

"Ahh, Tinder, you just caught us unawares is all."

"What're you doing out here anyway?" asked Dinari with curiosity as he helped a dazed Timon to his feet.

"Making sure you kits aren't getting yourselves into trouble," said Tinder, as though the answer was obvious. "I'm on sentry duty all this week. Max's orders."

"Was it his orders that sent you after us?" said Trip in a tone that said he already knew the answer.

"Actually, it was Danso that brought it to Max first, who relayed it to me. You guys know this is almost the limit as far as how far _any _meerkat can exit the colony unawares. Come on…" he moved forward, beginning to herd them all back towards the colony.

"Awww," complained Dinari. "Where are we goin' now? We were just getting to having fun."

"Not me," said Sauda who was following behind. "Never fun watching a bunch of silly kits who think they can impress me with wrestling. I could beat all of you with my paws tied behind my back!"

"I didn't see _you_ joining in. Are you sure you aren't just trying to intimidate _us? _I bet I could take you on any day," shot back Trip, who smiled challengingly. Sauda sniffed impertinently and looked daintily at her small claws.

"Please. I just don't want to get my fur dirty rolling around with you all. And as if I'd even consider laying paws on you. Stars know _you,_ Trip, wouldn't be my first choice in a cleanliness contest. Got a little spot on your cheek there, you know."

"I'm not dirty! Just rough-and-tumble…" objected Trip, but he fell behind and tried to wipe off the offending dirt nonetheless. He felt something crunch and 'eww'd quietly to himself, then turned to Timon.

"Was it really that obvious?" he whispered. Timon only sighed.

"So where are we going that's so much safer, Tinder?" asked Daren.

"The north side, guys," replied the older meerkat. "We'll be perfectly visible from there, so I'm not the only one keeping an eye on you."

--------------------------------------

A/N: Bad luck, or unnoticed premonition? Find out next week, same 'kat time, same 'kat channel!


	5. Casualties and New Recruits

A/N: Warning! Long-ish chapter ahead!

------------------------------------------

"But it's no fun when the others watch us," said Dinari as they came into full view of the small bowl that the colony was situated in. The other meerkats could be seen hard at work digging deeper and further into the ground, trying to integrate a great dip visible where Timon's catastrophic digging event occurred into the rest of the tunnel system.

"Hey, you think standing and watching you guys hop around having fun is a Sunday picnic for us sentries too?" replied Tinder as he moved up to the top of the small hillock they were standing upon. "You guys run along and… do whatever it is kits do nowadays. And stay out of Maji's sight, Trip. I'd be stuck between a rock and a hard place if she found out I let you and Dinari stay out here. Frankly, you're lucky I didn't take all of you back inside. But you know… extenuating circumstances and all that." Timon bowed his head as the older meerkat glanced to him. Tinder was sympathetic of Timon's plight and knew he would just face ridicule if he went inside. Tinder then scampered off to find a suitable position to set up his guarding post. He could be heard muttering a soon to be familiar mantra until his voice faded from hearing

"Scurry, sniff, flinch, scurry, sniff, flinch, sniff- er, snurry- no, wait…"

Timon thought about what Tinder had said about being stuck between "a rock and a hard place," and glanced towards Trip.

"So did he just call your mom a-"

"It's just a figure of speech, Timon," Trip quickly explained.

"Speech can make figures?" mumbled Timon as the others contemplated what they were to do next.

"We could play Dogs and Meerkats," suggested Daren. Sauda quickly shot that down with a snort. "You always suggest that. And I always end up being the Meerkat! It's annoying."

"Yeah, and you always say no to it," remarked Trip. "There's always something you hate doing, even when it's with us. Besides, you're only the Meerkat all the time because you have no idea how to look at a place with tactic vision." Sauda sneered briefly at him before Daren interjected.

"Why don't you pick then, Sauda?" suggested the male with a friendly smile. "It'd be a nice change."

"A change at least," muttered Timon. Sauda seemed to take her sweet time, with much "hmm"ing to herself, and placing her chin in her paw as she looked thoughtfully skyward. The others stood about and looked at each other quietly while Sauda decided what they would do for the rest of the day. Which, like all the other days, was bound to be long, hot, boring, and full of digging. So they may as well occupy themselves.

"I know… let's play Capture the Flank." At this, the other kits gulped and exchanged rather frightened glances to each other. Capture the Flank was a somewhat complex game where the players divvied up into two different teams, one scavengers, one predators. There was a rock or otherwise equally tangible object (the flank of some unlucky creature) hidden by the predators who had to defend it from the scavengers. Either way, Sauda may not have been a tactician, but she was certainly quite aggressive.

"I still got bruises from the last time we played that!" complained Dinari, the least of them all in terms of being able to defend himself (given that he was worse off than Timon, that was saying something). Sauda smirked and spread her paws placatingly.

"Well, if you're all saying you're just too weak to go up against me again…" At this, Timon, always one to fool himself into thinking he was of far firmer stuff than he really was, blew a raspberry and immediately stepped forward, waving off the insult.

"As if! I'm game enough for anything any of you two-bit stinkers can throw at me!" Daren, Trip, and Dinari all groaned and slapped paws to their foreheads. Sauda grinned, seeing they were all firmly stuck now. If Timon, the weakest, biggest coward there was, was game for it, it would be a great insult to not take up a challenge oneself.

"Then let's get this party started," she said, cracking her knuckles in an intimidating fashion.

Very soon the rock was in place. Using the time-honored tradition of the "not it" principle, it was decided that Dinari and Timon were to be the thieving scavengers, and the rest were the defending predators, and they were looking quite happy about their odds. Timon and Dinari lay hidden in the grass around them, and Dinari listened carefully as Timon outlined the battle plan.

"Okay, Dinari… you need to circle around to the north. Make noise, got it? I'll try and lay low like this on my stomach, and move all the way around to the west-!"

"That's the east part of the colony, Timon," interrupted Dinari when he noticed Timon pointing in exactly the wrong direction.

"Shh!" replied Timon. "I know that. I was just… making sure that whoever was listening got confused, and… didn't know which way I would be coming. Or going. Anyway… Now the next part of the plan requires good timing, and it will all come down to your actions!"

"You want me to run off and try to lead them away from the Flank?"

"… No. I want you to run straight at them as fast as you can, jump on Sauda, and antagonize them by squealing like a girl!" Dinari blinked as Timon began to slink off.

"Uh… okay, Timon… whatever you say…"

Timon snickered as he clambered (loudly) through the tall grass, feeling rather good about his chances today. If all went well, he could dash in quickly and grab the Flank before anyone saw him coming, especially if Dinari worked up the courage to attack them head-on. When he heard Dinari starting to shout, he knew things would go well. Except… everyone else seemed to be shouting too. He still lay hidden, thinking this was some sort of trick. But then another meerkat's voice reached the scene, sounding urgent and panicked… but that could only mean-

"HYENAS!"

Timon jumped up and saw one of the mangy scavengers charging full tilt at the meerkats from the east. A cold fear suddenly plunged into his chest and speared his heart directly as primal instincts began to churn into action. Everyone seemed to be in a panic and dashing back and forth. The sentries came scurrying down the hill, bursting from their lookout points to try and get to safety. Timon saw his friends go by several leaps off, and it was at this point his legs finally solidified from their jelly state and began to power him towards the colony, and safety. He was making good headway, when suddenly…

_SNAP!_

He was forced to skid to a stop as a hyena's jaws clamped down shut directly in front of him, spittle raining down onto his face. Fighting his way through a blind panic, Timon darted to one side, trying to go under the hyena's stomach. His attacker, Nakamba, yelled aloud in frustration at how agile his prey was. He tried to twist and grab at Timon's tail as the kit passed under him, but only moved about in confused circle as Timon flew with all speed to the nearest tunnel entrance. Suddenly, a small tan blur collided with him, sending them both sprawling. Dinari had tried to make a beeline to the colony from his position, but being farthest away, Rivu's attack had forced him to one side, fear driving his efforts. The two now seemed to be at the mercy of the gigantic carnivores as Nakamba finished his swing to meet Timon's gaze. The young meerkat froze in shock as the pale yellow irises met his own. There was a deep, gnawing hunger in those eyes, and knowing that he was going to help satiate that void petrified Timon. Dinari squeaked in terror and tried to get his friend moving by pulling at his arm, but Rivu was already closing in.

Both hyenas stopped in slight surprise when two new meerkats appeared, adults by the look of them. Tinder and another male Timon didn't remember had jumped to the rescue. Now they were the only meerkats that remained outside. Tinder gathered them up in his strong arms as the other meerkat (Timon saw only three large stripes on his broad back) stood protectively in front on all fours, arching his back and growling fiercely at the hyenas, who now slowed their pace to enjoy their good fortune. Nakamba may have severely misjudged the speed at which those little flea bags could run when they were in trouble, but now they had a fine consolation prize. Four whole meerkats in one small package!

"Eh, hehehehe…" chortled Nakamba as he advanced on them all, "not exactly the grand haul I was hoping for… but you'll have to do!"

"It's perfect," assented Rivu, a hunger crazed grin on his face. "Two meerkats each! I can't wait! Kill 'em! Kill 'em now!"

"I'll head for the right," muttered the male standing in front of Tinder, only slightly turning his head to speak secretively. Blue eyes, noted Timon strangely in the midst of their peril. "When they're distracted, ran past that big ugly one with the yellow eyes…"

Tinder nodded firmly, his eyes narrowed, keeping a firm grip around the waists of the kits beside him. Timon and Dinari clung to him like he was a piece of driftwood keeping them afloat in this storm, too scared out of their wits to know what was about to happen. Tinder shook his head briefly before the plan went into effect, guilt weighing heavily upon him even now. This was all his fault. He had personally asked to be a sentry all this week. It was his foolish error of judgment that had let the kits stay outside. If he ever got through this, he would preach the safety of tunneling to all the kits he met till his dying day.

Now though, he could only focus on getting Timon and Dinari out of all this safely.

The male dashed off, and Tinder launched himself forward, dragging the two kits along with him as he went. The two hyenas were momentarily distracted, their gazes drawn to the scampering meerkat. Rivu immediately gave chase, but Nakamba had a sharper eye than his companion. He took a step forward, then wheeled back around to greet Tinder as he ran low and fast, as best he could while burdened with the kits.

Time seemed to slow. Nakamba's slavering maw opened wide to receive them all in one bone-crunching bite. Tinder looked up, eyes wide, and forcefully threw Timon and Dinari out to the left, while he kept steady on his course…

… Straight into the waiting jaws of Nakamba. Something clicked in the back of his mind, said he was doomed rather insistently, but there was no way he could have avoided this without endangering the kits as well. It was better this way…

Tinder's death all only happened in a matter of seconds, but he felt every bit of it. When he came into contact with the hyena, a sharp pain lance through his chest as his sturdy frame was impaled on the hyena's razor sharp teeth. The bottom jaw went to meet the top, and there was a sickening crunch in his back. He spasmed involuntarily, and suddenly, he could no longer feel his legs and tail. Darkness and a foul stench enveloped him. There was a burst of white before his eyes as shock took over his senses momentarily. He felt himself being lifted into the air with a rush of nausea, and then thrown back down again, landing like a boulder as Nakamba, knowing the meerkat wasn't going anywhere, released Tinder to renew the assault on Timon and Dinari. Tinder felt a wet something stinging around his eyes as an inky black settled over his vision. He could only hope he had done enough now.

"My fault… my fault," he muttered, and then knew nothing more.

---------------------------------------------

Timon and Dinari, fortunately, had not bothered to stop when Tinder gave himself up, not even looking back as they charged onward to cover the last few paw lengths that lay between them and total protection. Timon felt a hot rush of air on the back of his neck and instinctively threw Dinari down next to him. The hyena flew over them both with a great whoosh! and landed in front of them. The two kits wasted no time in getting back to their paws and running like things possessed. Before they got two steps, another, stronger pair of arms fell on them, and they were suddenly off the ground and being heaved into the comforting darkness of the tunnel. Timon twisted about to get a good look at his savior.

"Dad?"

Danso jabbed a claw down the tunnel.

"Quiet! Both of you get to the lower chambers NOW!" The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice would brook no argument. Dinari did not even spend a moment in hesitation, but to Danso's ultimate surprise and alarm, Timon rushed back up, paws out in a reasoning gesture.

"Dad! There's still two more of us out there! Tinder, he-" Danso pressed a paw down atop Timon's head and forced him to stay away from the entrance. Nakamba had gone back to help Rivu chase down the other meerkat, and so they were both safe for the moment. Timon couldn't see a thing over the rim of the tunnel from where he was, but he could get a good idea from the look on his father's face. It was a mask of total anxiety and anticipation.

"Dad, come on! We have to get out there! They might still be alive! Where are the others? They can help, right?" he begged insistently, trying to press up and get a better view. Danso's face screwed up in frustration as he continued to observe, pressing Timon's head down with his free paw as he used the other to bang on the dirt in front of him.

"Come on, come _on_…"

"DAD!" yelled Timon, frantic now, actively trying to wrest his father's paw away. "What's going on? We can still go get them! Please!"

Danso's face suddenly fell to sadness, and then he quickly swept up Timon and began half carrying, half dragging him back down into the safety of the tunnel complex. Timon lay limp in his father's grasp, only comprehending what had happened outside on a deep level he would come to terms with later.

The last thing Timon heard before they rounded the corner was the triumphant giggling of the hyenas above.

-----------------------------------------

The two had just come down into the main chamber of the second level. Just about everyone in the colony had gathered here; fear of the hyenas had driven them all right past the first level. The moment the two stopped, Danso immediately set Timon down and began looking him over, his eyes still wide with a fear that greatly discomfited his son. Both of them were overlooked as Shombay and the others counted off the rest and reunited family members that had scattered in the general panic that followed the raid.

"Are you all right, Timon?"

"I'm fine, Dad. But-"

"You're not hurt, are you? No cuts? Nothing?" continued Danso, talking very fast.

_"No,_ Dad!" replied Timon, the tension in his father beginning to make him extremely uncomfortable. As the adrenaline subsided, he began to feel tears well up in his eyes. The moment that began, Danso fell on him, wrapping him up in a careful, firm embrace.

"Oh thank the stars, kit! I was so worried about you... you're fine." Timon put his arms around his father and sniffed, shaking as fatigue and fear overtook him. For at least a full minute, both of them only sat on the fringe of the packed to bursting chamber, surrounded by the buzz of quietly conversing meerkats, holding each other like it was their last day on Earth. Timon, surprisingly, was the first to recover, and muttered quietly,

"We could have gotten the others back..." Danso opened his eyes and pulled back in surprise, holding his son at arm's length.

"What? Timon, whatever do you mean? There was no way we could have fought off those hyenas. There were two of them, Timon! You shouldn't have even been up there in the first place, not so far from the colony entrances at least! Who let you stay up there?" A trace of maternal anger was beginning to invade his tone. Timon hung his head and muttered quietly.

"Tinder," he said so only his father could hear. Danso was quiet for several moments, unsure of what to say. He had seen the corpse outside, through the grass...

"Timon! Timon, where are you? Is that you? Agh! Where were you two, I was worried half to death!" Meeca suddenly bulled her way out of the crowd, jumping into the welcoming arms of Danso, and crushing Timon against her as she spilled out her lamentations for their feared deaths.

"When I saw just Dinari come down, I thought you were both dead already! Timon, don't you ever scare me like that again!" Danso sighed and patted Meeca's back gently as Max approached, sighing with relief. He did no more and turned back to watch Shombay and the census.

"It's all right, dear, we're both fine... just got a little lost on the way back." He conveniently neglected the part where he had been forced to dash up onto the surface to recover both kits. That part could wait until after the general terror and chaos subsided.

"Ma," said Timon, his voice breaking from both sadness and the crushing power of his mother's embrace, "Tinder... he... he got us out safe, Ma, he really did, but..." He was unable to finish as his voice cracked into nothingness, some small part of him wishing the two that were now gone would come speeding down the tunnel, bloodied but unharmed for the most part. Meeca looked up at Danso, who shook his head quietly.

"Tinder equaled his shortcoming with his bravery at the end. As did Bali," he said, having borne witness to both meerkats' final moments. He knew the latter from a few days being partnered on the digging crew. More than a few meerkats seemed to overhear him, which was unexpected.

"Hey, wait... where _is_ Tinder?" remarked one of the males, a good friend of the recently departed meerkat. A pretty young female meerkat with blonde hair and cerulean eyes suddenly gasped and began looking about frantically. Timon didn't know it, but she and Tinder would probably have been mated in just a few weeks' time had this incident not so swiftly stolen him.

"Tinder? Tinder! Where are you? Tinder!" She ran up to Shombay, who had to step back and hold her up at the elbows in the middle of her hysteria.

"Where is he? Where is he, Shombay? He's coming back right? Isn't he? He's still all right! He's here, isn't he?" Shombay followed the gaze of several other meerkats to Danso, who stood up under the scrutiny. Very slowly, he shook his head. The female sounded like she was choking for a few moments, then retreated to the arms of her family. Shombay took in a deep, shaky breath as he began speaking.

"I will need some of us to travel back up and determine where the hyenas are now," he began in a loud, firm voice to override the sorrow of the rest. "Mosi, Twitch, you're with me. Max, Redat, take the south side." He paused for several moments.

"We will honor our dead... and then continue with our work, as we have always done." Very slowly, the meerkats drifted off, to attempt to begin life anew. Timon watched the pretty female be taken off by her family, tears streaming down her cheeks. His paws were balled into fists. It shouldn't have gone like this.

"What?" he heard his father say. Timon must have said that out loud.

"I said it didn't have to be like this," repeated the kit, pointing back up to the surface. "Dad... those hyenas... they were downright mangy! They looked skinnier than my muscles! If we... if we had all just gone up there-"

"Timon," snapped his father quickly. Meeca gasped and looked back and forth between them, trying to understand what they were on about. "Hunger only makes a predator even more desperate! They would massacre every meerkat we have if they could! Don't you talk like that, Timon. Tinder and Bali gave their lives to defend you! They stood their ground and look what happened! I will not have you entertaining ideas of repeating a stunt like that!"

"Stunt!" gasped Timon, stepping away from his parents. Meeca looked terribly distraught, but neither of her family seemed to notice. It seemed incomprehensible to her that so soon after a terrifying day like this, they would find the time to get mad at each other.

"Dad, that 'stunt' saved my life! I'm alive because they were brave enough to stand up to those freaks! Where were you, anyway?" spouted Timon accusingly, anger now beginning to cloud his judgment. "Digging tunnels?"

"Yes, digging tunnels!" replied his father, eyes narrowing. "Digging tunnels that would have saved all of our lives if you and your friends hadn't been so dead set on gamboling under the sun!"

"What's wrong with the sun, Dad?" demanded Timon. Meeca could only look back and forth between them in shock. This was the first time something like this had happened. She could feel tears starting to sting her eyes. "The sun is pretty!" continued Timon. "I like watching it set and rise! I'd watch it now if I could!"

"You will do no such thing!" shouted Danso as he reared to his full height. A few meerkats stared as they went by. "What's gotten into you, kit? You're talking utter nonsense! Don't you know what we are? What our lives are like?"

"I do, Dad! And right now I'm thinking our lives are pretty pointless!" Before he could get himself into more trouble, Timon turned away and stomped off down a side tunnel. Danso's face immediately seemed to soften, and he stepped forward, reaching out to his son's back as it disappeared around the corner. Meeca stopped him by placing a paw on his shoulder.

"Let him go, honey... let him calm down. Let him think." Danso only now seemed to realize what had just happened. He put his face in his paws. "What just happened, Meeca?" he asked desperately. Max's voice piped up next to him.

"He's turning into a rebel, that's what's happening. You need to go find him, Dan. Go tell him what being a meerkat is all about." Danso shook his head slowly.

"No... no, no, no. I'll just... I need to calm down myself." He turned away to go back to the family nest.

Timon, meanwhile, found himself in the west wing, kicking rocks angrily out of the way.

"It could have been different," he muttered to himself. "Way different! Tinder and Bali wouldn't have... wouldn't... they'd be here if we all had just got up and did something! Instead everyone ran to cower in their little holes..." He stopped his ramblings and leaned against the tunnel wall, sighing heavily.

"Oh, come off it, Timon! What are you trying to prove? Maybe Dad was right... we're not cut out for fighting hyenas. What am I trying to say? That I'm a fearless little furball that likes pain?" He growled and shook his head vigorously. "No! I'm not! I'm more than that! We're all more than that! Or at least we could have been. We could have fought those hyenas off... I know we could have! Lousy, mangy, stupid poachers. We could have messed them up good... yeah... made 'em black and blue. Just like... like...?"

He paused again as he looked behind him to see a large rock protruding from the wall. On it were several charcoal drawings, arranged in a storyboard fashion. Each section had a small, simple drawing of one meerkat in particular, exhorting his fellows to some sort of action, and then chasing down hyenas all by himself. Timon suddenly realized where he was. This was one of the oldest places in the colony! This part of the tunnel system had been built back when the whole thing was just a few underground nests and smelly, waterlogged storage tunnels. A record marker was here to signify something important in the colony's history. And oh, how important this was. A smile began to form on his face as his gaze landed on each of the mosaics, which soon turned into a small grin. From the depths of his memory he dredged up an ancient song some of the diggers still sang, incorporating it into their work days.

_Sing the ballad of Fearless Buzz, greatest meerkat there ever was..._


	6. Back Tunnel Brawl

Danso stomped through the tunnels with a look on his face that would have slain any hyena that merely chanced a passing glance at him. It was a week after the attack on the colony. He and Timon had done a fairly good job of avoiding one another for the most part. He and his friends seemed to have given each other the cold shoulder treatment as well, much to Danso's dismay. Their innocuous desire to get away from the colony's restraints had directly led to the death of a good meerkat, and it had hit them all fairly hard. Hopefully, they would learn their lesson. More to the point, Danso hoped Timon had learned his lesson. After their conflict following the attack, Danso didn't know what his son had been thinking, since they had only managed three or four words to each other each day. It was bothersome, but Danso had tried to distance himself as well, despite Meeca's placations for the two to sit down and talk things over. Timon, despite his by now well known outburst, still wasn't the best at being a meerkat, and he needed to learn one of these days. He was going to be halfway to maturity in a few months. Danso had waved it off, but now he knew that it could be prolonged. Daren had finally gotten around to telling him something… something extremely important. And infuriating.

So Danso had gone off in a rage, to find the one meerkat that he knew was responsible… and also the only meerkat he knew he could beat to a pulp without feeling bad the next morning.

"MOSI!" he shouted, livid with fury. His handsome rival turned about with a scowl, instantly recognizing the voice that hailed him. Several other meerkats were nearby and heard the shout, some watching the two contestants close in on each other. They backed up several steps.

"What is it now?" he sneered. Before he could blink, though, Danso had grabbed him by the collar and thrown him down another tunnel, where there were no witnesses.

"One week ago, you sick creature! Your sons and their little…" he took the time to pause and spit on the ground here, "gang attacked my child! _My child! _Did you know?"

"If I _did,_ I would certainly do something about it, and so would Tima," replied Mosi calmly, in reference to his mate. He stood up slowly, dusting himself off with dignity. "And I wouldn't judge all of them like that. I know Nyack wouldn't do something like that." Despite his calm exterior, he knew he couldn't resist a jab at his old enemy. And even if Gamba _had _taken a swing or two… well, what problem was that of his, if it was Danso's son?

"And if little Timon can't handle himself even when it comes to rivals, he'd better get with the times soon," he said with a smirk. "It'd be a shame if something happened with nobody actually capable of defending themselves weren't around. Danso was shaking visibly, trying to calm himself. His pupils began to dilate.

"I told you, Mosi… I told you!" he repeated, breathless as he labored to get air through his chest that had tightened considerably. "I won't have you… or your children… attacking my son in any way! I've heard enough horror stories. If you don't straighten up those boys of yours, Shombay will be notified!" He jabbed a claw in Mosi's direction, only realizing a little later how hollow and forceless his threat sounded. That _definitely _could have been better. Mosi tsk'ed and crossed his arms.

"You've got me trembling in my fur, Danso," he remarked with bland sarcasm. "I know Shombay cares less for that rat of yours than even the rest of the colony. Ever considered the possibility he's broken? I overheard him barking at you back when Tinder and Bali… passed away."

"NO!" shouted Danso, looking rather desperate when his son's credibility was attacked. "He's still learning… he's hardly four months old. They'll warm up to him…"

"Well, somehow I highly doubt that," said Mosi sharply, enjoying that he had Danso squirming now in the space of a few seconds. He pressed his advantage.

"Two major incidents involving the collapse of huge swaths of tunnel, and countless smaller ones. Little Timmy doesn't have a place here… the diggers cringe when they see him!" Convinced of his superior position, he took a few dangerous steps forward, unaware of just how far he was pushing.

"Survival of the fittest, Danso. That's how we live, isn't it? What you teach your son? Have you looked Tinder and Bali's families in the eye, yet? I bet they'd all agree…" He lowered his voice to a snarling whisper. "It was _your_ child that should have taken their place!"

Danso suddenly shouted something, his words warped with a feral rage in him. He leaped forward, tackling Mosi to the ground. They landed with a painful thud. In an instant, Danso began pounding on Mosi's unprotected head. Mosi was completely taken aback, but soon regained his composure, grabbing Danso's paws and pushing upward in a mighty display of strength. Danso rolled away, and the two crouched, glaring, their faces mere inches apart, before hurling themselves at each other once more. In moments the two were scrabbling all over the tunnel floor, clawing and punching and kicking savagely at each other as they yelled meerkat obscenities at the top of their lungs. For years they had loathed and despised one another. For years they had tried to one-up each other, humiliate each other, simply _be better _than each other.

And now, they were finally venting it.

Oji, Shakina's mate, who had been in the crowd that gathered to watch the confrontation, suddenly leaped forward when things turned violent and tried to pry the two apart. He was no match for them, however, and was sent flying back with a shove from Mosi. The rest of the onlookers surged forward, now galvanized into action, but they were interrupted when another meerkat plowed forward and grabbed both Danso and Mosi by the scruffs of their necks.

With a mighty heave, Shombay threw them away from each other and into the walls opposite one another. Danso tried to go forward again, but was backhanded by the stronger meerkat. Mosi also wanted to renew the assault, but Shombay grabbed him about the neck and tossed him easily back once more. Finally, the two combatants rested on the floor, both bloodied and scratched in many places as they stared from across the dirt floor.

Danso nursed his throat where Mosi had attempted to choke him, and Mosi himself sported two black eyes. Both of them had many smaller bruises beginning to develop. Shombay looked down at them both, disgusted. He wasn't aware of the entire background between them, but he knew enough that this wasn't the end, and it would only get worse if they didn't end it somehow.

"All right, you two!" he barked loudly, switching his gaze back and forth between them. Everyone, even Mosi and Danso, flinched at his voice. "If this is how you want to play it out… then I won't stand in your way! Our annual wrestling tourney is coming up soon. You'll both have a special place reserved so you can beat each other to pulps as much as you like. It'll be a clean fight! Not this back tunnel scuffling. And then let that be the end of it!"

There was a few moments silence. Danso and Mosi both stood up, and then nodded quietly. Shombay nodded firmly in return.

"Very well. Until then… I don't want to see either of you so much as looking at each other. Or I'll consign you both to scout duty for the rest of your existence!" He turned to the others.

"Get them back to their nests." Oji stepped forward to assist Danso, while a few others helped Mosi clamber to his feet. They both spared one passing glare at each other before turning away.

Oji sighed as he looked Danso over while they were walking away from the confrontation. Danso had to lean heavily on Oji; his lower right paw felt rather twisted.

"Why do you two have to keep this up day after day?" asked Oji despairingly of his friend. "I know, there's been bad blood between you two for some time… but can't you just let things go? For Timon's sake?"

Danso stared at the ground as he limped along.

"You don't understand, Oji… I _am_ doing this for his sake. I'm… I just want to see him grow up strong. A good meerkat. Unlike I was. I'm not going to see him put down by this. Mosi and his spawn aren't ever going to taunt him again after I'm through with Mosi at the tourney. Timon is turning out just like I was when I was young. Fortunately I grew out of it. He will too… once I get those thugs off his back."

Oji sighed once more. "What about what he said to you back when the attack happened?"

"Those are just ideas, Oji. I'll see to it they're put out. Nothing will keep my son from living the good life. I almost ruined my own, making the mistakes he does… I won't see him repeat that."

Never again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mom?"

"Yes, dear?"

"What can you tell me about Fearless Buzz?"

Meeca almost started when she heard that name, pausing from trying to pat down Timon's headfur. They had been sitting quietly in the nest, Timon allowing his mother for the moment to amuse herself with vainly attempting to make Timon look presentable. With a slight smile, she restarted her grooming.

"Well, it's been a long, long time since anyone's said that name," she said, pausing and letting her arms drop to her sides.

"Why? Wasn't he real?" asked Timon to fill the gap settling back into his mother's lap.

"Oh, of course he was real," replied Meeca with a smile as placed her arms around her son.

"He was as real as you and I, but he lived a long, long time ago."

"Then why do we still sing about him?" asked Timon. He had never really understood the character, but he was familiar with the story. The first few parts, at least.

"Because he was the bravest meerkat that ever lived. The only one to ever set foot outside and try to fight back…"

"Fight back against what?" persisted Timon, his eyes wide. Despite how many times he had heard the song, he had never had the story told personally to him before. Meeca shrugged in reply.

"Nobody really knows. Against the hyenas, against his own circumstances, against the Circle of Life, Nature's Way… but fight he did. Why? Nobody remembers. All we know is he wasn't afraid. And that's why he's Fearless Buzz."

"Did he _really _fight a whole pack of hyenas?" asked Timon, his voice full of infantile curiosity and wonder again, asking in the sort of voice that only children speak in, just to make _absolutely sure _that the hero really was brave, that the day really was saved.

"Oh yes, honey! A whole pack. He only managed to beat one of them black and blue though. After that… well…" Meeca and Timon's faces fell in unison.

"Oh… right…" finished Timon quietly, voice almost a mutter. "Meerkat brave, he was a meerkat snack. Dig," he added with poison in his tone.

"That's all we ever do… dig. Dig so we can hide, and hide so we can dig. And I'm not even good at that." Meeca sighed and tightened her hold on him.

"Timon… Tinder and Bali were brave meerkats. But you can't let it disturb you so much… they'll be remembered, just like everyone else."

"Everyone else got to go serve the Great Kings in their nests!" said Timon, surprising her mother with his conviction.

"Tinder and Bali got to do it helping the others, not saving themselves. They should have their own songs… I'd sing it. They saved me. Just like Buzz tried to save everyone else. But he only ever did it by himself… nobody came up to help Tinder and Bali either." Meeca lightly kissed the top of Timon's head, then went back to fussing over his headfur.

"I know, Timmy, I know. But it's over now. You know, your father was the only one to come up and save you and Dinari. If it weren't for him, you probably wouldn't have gotten three more whisker lengths." Timon cast his gaze down.

"I know… but not even he wanted to talk to me. But if he can be that brave, why doesn't he try to make things better for us?" Meeca's voice suddenly got stern.

"Timon! Your father's done many things for us, and he recently saved your life. Be a little grateful for what we have now, hmm?"

Timon sighed. "I'm sorry, momma. But… doesn't it make sense that this wouldn't happen if we all just went where the hyenas couldn't catch us?"

"We already live where they can't get us, which is right here, and where you're staying if your father has anything to say about it."

"Yeah, fat lot of good that did us last week…" muttered Timon before he could stop himself. Meeca sighed, unable to let her temper spike, and shook her head.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you, Timon? If Danso ever heard you talking like this…"

"He'd be quite sour about it," said Danso as he appeared at the front of the nest, dry blood caked into his fur and a few of his accomplices standing by to help him walk. Meeca gasped and stood up immediately.

"Danso! What _happened _to you?" she said, rushing over to him and looking all over him. Danso allowed his wife to minister to his injuries, most of which were superficial.

"Mosi and I had a… disagreement," he said calmly. Meeca sighed while Timon looked on in shock. He had never seen his father in such a state before.

"Are ya hurt, dad?"

"Not much, kit. Not as much as I'm going to hurt Mosi when we face each other at the tourney…" Meeca stood back, mouth agape.

"You're actually going to fight him in the wrestling tourney? Danso, that's for showing off and getting prestige, not settling vendettas!You're both too old for that silly competition."

"Shombay said he would set it up for us. And it isn't silly. If I remember correctly, that's where I caught _your _eye…" Meeca only hmmphed and crossed her arms.

"That's beside the point… To think, a meerkat like you getting involved in fights…" Danso seemed flustered at the stern tone in his mate's voice.

"Wha-… Meeca, I-! Mosi was…" he stopped short. He didn't want to upset his family with the horrid remarks his rival had made. Instead he sighed and relegated himself to whatever his mate would dish out.

"You go sit down there and keep quiet! We'll talk about it later." She turned to get a full story from Oji, who was standing near the entrance. Danso went to sit next to Timon, who was staring wide-eyed.

"Dad?" he asked quietly. Danso smiled and shook his head.

"I'm fine, Timon. Nobody got the jump on me."

"Why'd you fight Mosi, Dad?" Danso paused, and sighed heavily, putting his paw around his son's shoulders.

"Because Daren told me what _Mosi's _son tried to do to you." Timon's face fell, ears drooping considerably.

"I'm the only one weak enough to pick on, that's why. Even Dinari gets to have Trip look after him!" He refused to meet his father's gaze, instead staring stonily at the ground. "You were right Dad… I'm just prey… even for other meerkats…"

Danso frowned, and looked up at the others. "Can you give us a few moments alone?" Meeca seemed to protest a moment, but then bit back what she was about to say and nodded, shepherding the others away. When he was certain nobody could hear, Danso looked down at his son.

"Timon, you aren't a weakling. And the last thing you are is another link in the food chain," he began, but Timon interrupted, looking up at Danso, tears beginning to well up in the corners of his eyes.

"If I'm not, then I wouldn't need other people to stand up for me! To give their lives for me… I should be something more than this…" He looked away again, but his father cupped his chin in his paw and forced him to match gazes.

"You're still young, Timon," Danso began carefully. "But you've got strength of a different kind… I can see it in you. It'll manifest eventually."

"Mansi-… what now?"

"Manifest," repeated Danso with a smile. "It means you've yet to show what you can really do… when you're older, I know you'll make us all proud."

"I just wish I could do something to be proud of _now…_if I could, I would teach Mosi and his whole family a lesson!" Danso shook his head carefully.

"Watch it, pup. You've got spit, I can see that, but I'm not about to let you fight a battle that isn't yours."

"Isn't mine?" repeated Timon incredulously. "I'm the one that keeps taking the falls here, Dad!" Danso looked back at his son with a warning in his eyes.

"You aren't the only one fighting, Timon, as you can plainly see," he said sullenly. "I'm trying to look out for your best interest…"

"What will happen after that? When I'm nice and cushy in the colony's good graces again? Everyone knows I'm just a tunnel klutz…" Timon drew his knees to his chest and placed his chin upon them, curling up into a ball. Danso wrapped both of his arms about his son.

"Timon…" he began, but couldn't go on. He could see his son didn't fit now, but… wouldn't that pass? It had for him, and his son would be no different… they just had to give it time.

"What'd ya say, Dad?" asked Timon. Danso realized he had spoken that last sentence aloud.

"I said we need to give it more time," he replied. "You'll see, Timon… things will get better. For the both of us." There was silence in the small nest. Father and son clung to each other, finding a small bit of comfort. The wedge between them, driven in since perhaps from the moment Timon was born, was bridged, if only for the moment.

"Max said he was having a class in case we ever got placed into sentry duty tomorrow…" said Timon, but the hope wasn't particularly palpable in his voice. Danso tried to sound supportive.

"It's as good a chance as any…"

_Excellent follow-up, Einstein…_


	7. Further Failures

CRACK!

The noise was audible even to those of the colony just below ground. It was the next day after Danso and Timon had talked, and after some urging, Timon had readily agreed to attend the sentry class that Max was preparing. He jumped as the echoing snap resounded over the dusty ground. Max had just whipped his little pointing stick against his thigh, making an impressive display as he stood at sharp attention, glancing with a faint air of contempt over the rest of the kits who were assembled before him. Some of them actually looked scared despite the fact that they were all older than Timon. Trip and Daren were there, standing next to him. Unfortunately there was also Gamba and Tupac were present, but they were farther down the line. Finally, there was one face that Timon had only seen sparsely, perhaps not more than eight or nine times in his life.

It was Mosi's third son, Nyack, standing apart from the line as though he was an observer rather than a participant. He was around Daren's age, but as far as being physically imposing went, he was no better off than Timon. Where he was not disadvantaged, though, was in looks. He had a musculature that could be called scrawny, but it was fitting for a young, developing kit of his proportions, as he was a little on the short side, and his dark tan fur was soft as his paws. He stood with a ramrod straight back, and a full head of dirty brown headfur, with a tinge of orange just putting off the main color. He had many long, narrow stripes running down his back, unlike the large, blockier ones typically seen on the other meerkats. What were most striking about this young thing were his eyes.

These were the color of a cloudy blue sky, foggy and unique. This only added to his quiet aura, for he never spoke unless spoken to as far as Timon knew, and it had actually worried one or two of the other members of the colony, that he was wrong in the head and wouldn't work for the better of the common good.

But work he did. He had come along far faster than Timon could ever hope (but then, everyone always did), and was a good pupil. A disquieting, but fair meerkat overall.

Max suddenly broke the stiff silence with his snapping, authoritative voice.

"All right, youngsters! It's time you all learned one of the most valuable arts of meerkat society. And that is the art of sentry duty!" He began moving up and down the line of meerkat kits, most of them male, with a smattering of females (Sauda was learning to work with the digging crews), looking them all in the eye as he passed by, gesticulating with his pointer stick.

"Without the sentry there is no life in the colony! Digging, scouting, foraging, all quite important, but what use are they, I ask, if there is nobody watching their backs? Nothing! Nothing at all! And that is how we live, is it not? Each and every meerkat keeping a careful eye on the one next to him. Our lives are intertwined. And this is why the sentry is a fundamental part of our lifestyle. Perhaps one day, one of you will be called upon to serve in this honorable position. Which is why you are here. To see if you have a future in preserving the lives of each and every one of the colony!"

He snapped the end of his stick downward, landing on Trip's chest.

"You, mister, could be holding the lives of those here in your very _paws_ one day Just think of which one of us could be killed in an instant because of one, tiny slip-up by our little friend here. Perhaps… you! Or you!" he said, moving down the line and poking random kits with his stick, explaining in detail all the ways they could be slain if the one next to them left his post for even more than a moment.

"Don't forget that what happened just over a week prior could happen at any moment in our lives! Snakes, eagles, and even other meerkats looking for trouble, who don't want anyone to know they passed by… legions of animals, just waiting for us to leave the safety of the colony, drag us out into the open and rend us limb from limb!" he exclaimed, getting himself worked up as he illustrated the rending part with paw motions.

"Okay Max! … I think you've made an impression," remarked Oji as he came over. He had volunteered to help mainly because he didn't want the kits coming back with nightmares. Max sniffed and looked at the line of petrified kits, all standing stock still with their eyes wide as dinner plates as they all imagined if the one next to them was going to be the one that didn't defend them correctly. Someone gulped audibly.

"If I don't tell them, who will?" said Max, crossing his arms. "It's best they know what they're dealing with if they're going to get it right!" Oji sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to reason with the irascible meerkat.

"All right, all _right._ Let's just get this started so I can get back and make sure Shakina doesn't kill our Dinari trying to teach him to catch scorpions."Max turned back to the kits, arms still crossed.

"In order to discover the true prowess of our observation and sneaking skills, which will come in handy should I instead recommend you as scouts, we will be doing a little test. One by one, each of you is going to stand on that rock, that one, right over there." He pointed at a large, flat stone, near the location of Buzz's underground monument, noted Timon. Max continued, unabated.

"But before we do that, you need to memorize a system we use. Tried, true, and simple. Three steps to survival. Scurry… sniff… and flinch. Oji, _you_ will show them the correct form." The other meerkat sighed and put a paw over his eyes.

"Aw Max, do I _have _to? It's embarrassing." Max gasped.

"Embarrassing nothing! It's saved lives! Now get going!"

"I'll give you saving lives…" muttered Oji as he walked into full view, standing at attention.

"Watch closely," said Max to the kits.

"Scurry!" he shouted. Oji hunkered over and scuttled along on his hind legs, paws held loosely in front. He did his best to look alert and partially terrified, as he knew Max wanted, but for the most part he looked like he had just been sent to his nest without dinner.

"Sniff! And what's with the face? You're being _hunted,_ mister! This is not a flamingo strutting contest!" Oji jutted his narrow snout into the air, sniffing loudly, eyes wide with an appropriately "hunted" look to them.

"And flinch!" Oji decided to exaggerate and sprang into a 180, landing on one footpaw with his limbs splayed out, looking under one arm. Trip sniggered, and Timon saw other kits exchanging smiles. Probably not quite the impact Max had in mind. All expressions of humor faded at once when Max turned on them again.

"Observe and remember! Follow this process and you will survive. You're all going to be repeating this on the test I've set up for you. The entire class will sneak past the sentry, who will eventually be played by all of you, whilst you repeat exactly what Oji did here. And stop that," he snapped at Oji, who was making a variety of "panic state" motions behind Max's back, earning several giggles from the class.

Oji simply grinned as he dropped his arms to his side.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Half of the class, thought Timon, half the class has gone as the sentry, and I got spotted by almost _every single one._

This made number twelve. The kits let out a collective sigh as Max halted the entire process once again, and this time even before Timon got half a foot from the starting point.

"No no no!" he said with exasperation, waving his stick with vigor.

"You're still disturbing the grass too much, don't stick your paws out so far when you crawl! I know we're not training to hide, but at least make it _challenging _for Trip!" he snapped, jabbing his stick in Trip's direction. Oji came forward to placate the fuming meerkat.

"Come on, Max, give the kid a chance."

"We've given him a dozen so far, Oji!" Max replied, throwing his arms in the air. Timon got up and dusted himself off.

"Hey, that twig was old anyway, it probably just snapped by itself… I'm not doing that bad, right Trip?" he called to the older meerkat, who just grinned good-naturedly.

"As if! I saw you before you even ducked down properly!"

"And what are _you _doing, acting like this is a joke, eh?" interrupted Max on the spot. Trip's smile fell from his face, caught in the act.

"Uh… well, I just-"

"You wouldn't joke with a mamba, would you!"

"Max!" Oji said through his teeth, poking the other male on the shoulder. "This isn't life or death! Trip is the oldest one here, you'll scare them to death before the day is out! Can't you lighten up just one moment and-!"

"Timon! Let's see if you can spot better than sneak!" shouted Max, ignoring Oji, who spluttered.

"Yes Uncle Max," said Timon obediently.

"Nothing doing with the "Uncle" business! I'm 'sir' when I'm the teacher."

"Yes, Sir Uncle Max," corrected Timon with sincerity.

"No! I told y-… forget it, get it up there," said Max, wagging his stick back and forth, then turning to the kits.

"All right, class! This next round is for Timon's benefit… don't go easy on him."

Timon snorted from his position on the rock.

"As if they'd ever do that anyway… okay! Let's get focused here, Timmy, lots of eyes on you right now… don't wanna screw this one up." He turned away from the others and cracked his knuckles, trying to get into "the zone" just in case sentries had something like that. He even put on his best tough-guy face for effect. Today was going to be a good day, he told himself. Nobody would get as far as a whisker length before he spotted them.

He only had to do it perfectly… exactly… right.

"Okay… okay. Now, what am I supposed to do? Sniff… scurry… and… what was it?"

He placed a paw on his chin, looking absently into the sky as he began to forget what his actual assignment was. A twig snapped somewhere behind him, prompting him to-

"Flinch! Of course!" He spread his arms and smiled triumphantly, then his face fell again.

"Oh, wait… Is that really the order? What if… what if I sniff when I'm supposed to flinch? Will that cost me my head?" he asked himself in a panic, putting his paws around his neck, remembering the graphic stories Max had told.

"Or what if I flinch before I scurry? Does it matter? If I don't flinch right, I can't jump, but if I don't scurry, I can't run, and if I don't sniff, I can't smell!"

Timon had, by now, worked himself into a hysteria with the thought of messing up the entire practice in front of everyone, completely unaware that the lesson had started long ago, falling into the practice of worrying about procedure while a real crisis developed directly behind him. Most of the class was already sliding their way along, sniggering at how easy the day had suddenly become. Maybe Max would be convinced it was all hopeless and send them home early!

Daren looked up from his spot in the grass, hardly two feet from Timon, who had his back turned and seemed to be talking to some other invisible meerkat. Shaking his head, he moved on. Timon continued his ranting.

"There's just so much to think of! I'm gonna let everybody down! I… I can't. I told dad I'd do it right today. I've got to just… turn around… and tell them I'm ready. Yeah. Show them I can do it. Okay… let's go!" he said loudly, whipping around to face… nothing.

"Hey… where'd everybody-… oh no…" Turning with drooping ears, Timon came face to face with a very irate looking Max. The rest of the group stood behind him; with a sinking feeling Timon realized the entire class had slipped by without so much as a peep... or at least none that he had heard. Oji was sighing and looking at the ground, Trip and Daren were looking on helplessly, and the rest of the kits were busy with trying to smother their barely contained giggles.

Gamba simply stood there, a highly amused smirk on his face.

"Let's… try that again," Max said quietly.

They tried it again for the next two weeks.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"No, Max, I don't need to hear it again…" said Meeca, standing with her paws clenched over her stomach as Max paraded about in front of her, throwing a very impressive fit after another four full hours of unsuccessful attempts at teaching Timon how to guard his post. The past couple weeks had been alternating through hard studies of everything a meerkat did. He had failed with flying colors in all of them. Timon's fourth month of life had slipped by, unnoticed in the flurry of teaching attempts. Every night Timon came home, he had hardly looked his parents in the eye before settling down for the next day of drills. His friends had tried to be supportive, but they couldn't be there for him all the time. Gamba had not attacked him like he had in previous days, but every time the gang saw him, they were sure to throw a few insults his way, even going so far as to spatter him with dirt or shellfulls of water when no one was looking. Nyack was the only one that had paid him any real attention… well, if one could call staring vaguely in his direction every once in a while attention.

Max hadn't heard his sister-in-law's request to stop talking, meanwhile, and continued on about the disgraceful way Timon had been distracted and abandoned his post for a passing beetle after fifteen minutes of standing alone, pounced on a stick instead of another classmate, and other incredibly humiliating things that Meeca had merely blocked out a long time ago. She put his paw over her eyes and heaved with a great sigh. Timon stood against the wall; shoulders hunched and paws behind his back, ears folded down. It didn't help to keep the words from biting into him. He shut his eyes tight. The images of the other kits sniggering behind Max's back only became all the clearer.

He didn't think he had done that bad. He was only four months, give or take a couple weeks. Surely that cut him some slack? It hadn't stopped him from becoming the laughingstock of all those that had seen him, though. And surely they would go home and tell their parents, what fun they had had watching the class clown fail at everything except standing still.

"… don't see how anyone could be so completely useless!" Max's words came roaring back in a rush as he dragged himself out of his stupor, immediately wishing he hadn't.

"He's young, Max," said Meeca, using the argument Danso had used for a long time, but even she didn't sound convinced at all. Not this time. Max interrupted harshly.

"There are others hardly days older than him, and they were picking up on everything I said. They were attentive. They practiced what I told them to do. Timon couldn't even get the 'scurry, sniff, flinch' routine right! We had to have him shadow Oji before he came close! Ohhh, I can hear the names they're cooking up for him at the nursery. The Non-Watch Kat, maybe! That's perfect! Oh, wait, they used that last week! He attacked a stick, Meeca, a stick over a regular meerkat today! This was funny two months ago, when he was still learning to talk, but he's got to get the basics now! Imagine what he'll be like if this doesn't go like you plan! He's going to be alone for the rest of his miserable life!"

Actually, that doesn't sound so bad right now… thought Timon, close to tears.

"I can't understand it. Not a single thing we did hasn't been riddled with errors for the past two weeks! I've heard of non-attentive kits before, even taught a few myself, but this-!" He paused to jab a finger at Timon. "This just takes the cake! I can't work with something I'm not given, Meeca, I-"

"I get it, Max," snapped Meeca sharply, closing her eyes tight.

"You've done all you can. I thank you for your help," she continued. Her voice was in a low monotone, sounding like she was reading from a script. In a sense, she was… she had expected a talk like this would happen after the fifth day. After a pause, her eyes opened. They were tired.

"Now, please leave, my son has had enough trouble as it is these last few moons," she commanded. Max knew from her voice this was no time to argue. With a disdainful grunt, he exited the chamber.

Timon was busy finding interest in the ground when Meeca turned to look at him.

"Well… I'm glad your father wasn't around to hear that," said Meeca, trying to keep the mood light. Unlike the others, she still had a bit of hope for her son. After this, she had a hard time keeping it from fading further.

"I tried hard, ma, I really did… I didn't want to fail, really I didn't, I didn't want anyone to laugh at me, I didn't want to get called Tunnel Klutz, I… I didn't! Never!" Tears ran down his cheeks in rivulets, beginning to pool in the dirt as they fell to the floor.

"I just want to make you guys proud of me, I only wanted to hear Max say I did a good job… really I did, I did…" He finally collapsed, sobbing openly as he sank down to his knees, putting his paws over his face. Meeca sat at her son's side, watching him cry. Superficially, it looked like indifference… but with each shake of Timon's shoulders, another piece of her heart was torn off on the inside. Timon continued to babble on, seeming to forget his mother was in the chamber with him.

"What's the point? I couldn't even walk right when I was little, I've buried the tunneling teams three times, and I can't even get in time with the digging song! Why can't I do anything right? What's the point?"

He went on like this for some time; other meerkats studiously avoiding the small burrow, shaking their heads as they went by at the embarrassment the child inside was turning out to be.

"I tried…" Timon whispered brokenly when his sobs had disappeared into hiccups. Meeca looked away for a moment. Both of them knew the futility behind Timon's words. Trying never counted, not in this world. Tinder and Bali had tried. So had countless others, they had tried, tried to live, to love.

Fearless Buzz tried. And he was as dead as the rest of them.

"Oh, sweety…"

Gently, she put a paw on her son's shoulder. Timon looked up, trying to see through the blurry sacks of red his eyes had become. Slowly, Meeca's paw slipped down around Timon's waist, and then her son jumped forward, the tears flying out anew as he cried into his mother's chest. And for the first time in a long time, Meeca felt a tear of her own slide out.

Danso came in an hour later. Timon was sent to bed, and husband and wife began to talk.


	8. Intermission

"The, uh… the tourney is next week," Danso began weakly. Meeca only nodded, bringing up the faintest of smiles.

"So… Timon hasn't really improved, has he?" continued Danso in a resigned sort of voice.

"He's trying, Dan," answered Meeca, paws folded over her stomach, looking down to the floor of their burrow.

"And where's it gotten him?" asked Danso with sudden energy, smacking his paw lightly against the dirt wall. "Nowhere. Nowhere except in the dark. What's going to _happen _to him, Meeca? He's got nowhere to go, nothing to do!" He turned towards the lower tunnel. "I'm going to have a word with him."

"No, please, he's had it hard enough with Max…" Meeca stepped forward to block his passage, and Danso rounded on her again.

"Well, blast it, what am I supposed to do? What is _he _supposed to do? He's almost halfway to adulthood! Nothing he's done has gotten him anywhere! Whether with sentry duty, or tunneling crews-!"

"Danso, he'll _hear _you!"

"The boy's just thrashing around, and not moving, Meeca! What's he to do when his sixth month rolls around? He'll be nearly grown and he's hardly ready to make his own burrow, let alone take care of himself. All his life so far all he's done is roll about from one thing to another!" He ran a paw through his headfur.

"I'm seeing him begin to turn to adolescence, and he's not even close to the mark."

"Danso, how can you _say _that?" said Meeca sharply, her voice a harsh whisper."Whose mark are we judging him by? The colony's? Or yours?"

Danso raised his head to look his mate in the eye.

"Don't say that, Meeca," he said, suddenly feeling tired. "I love him, by the great kings, I love him more than _anything. _But…" He fell short quickly, grasping for words. But what? He couldn't answer. He feared the answer, because deep in his heart of hearts, he knew it was true.

"I don't want to judge him, but the rest of the colony isn't going to be so forgiving!" he said quickly to avoid the issue.

"Why do we need to care about the rest of the colony, Danso? This is our _son._ He still has time."

"Time for what? The hyena attack a month back came out of _nowhere. _What are we going to do, just keep him stuffed down into some dark construction tunnel so he doesn't hurt himself or anyone else?"

"What we need to _do,"_ said Meeca, keeping her voice patient, "is keep a close eye on him, and try to get the rest of the colony to understand that he's just different."

"You make it sound like he's broken…" muttered Danso, but Meeca heard it plainly. She folded her ears back and stiffened slightly.

"I'm sorry," answered Danso, too quickly to be entirely sincere. "I didn't mean it like that… but what are we going to _do?"_ he asked, this time completely honest. He held his paws out, his whole body pleading for an answer. Meeca stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the gesture.

"He has a place here. Everyone does. That's why it's a colony and not a labor squad. We just need to find it… and we will."

It was almost frustrating for Danso how optimistic his mate could be.

Neither of them noticed the slight scurrying noise that signaled an exit from the burrow.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Timon slumped against a tunnel wall he had been to only twice before, putting a paw over his eyes. This was getting serious. Two full weeks of nothing but training, and he hadn't gotten a single lesson right. There were only a few things he hadn't tried yet, and he already knew that he was definitely not going to be any good at those. Dad had been right. All he was doing was kicking around, looking for something, searching… but he hadn't even come close to figuring out what it was.

He looked sadly up at the figure of Fearless Buzz. It had since lost some of its luster when he had first gazed upon it… now it was just a fancy dirt wall. Still, it didn't make fun of him when he tried to talk to it.

"I wonder if you ever had the same problems as I do," he mused. He threw up his arms and sat down beneath the mural. "Pfft. As if. You're Fearless Buzz. You didn't do anything wrong… all you did was try to be different. Like me. I want to be different. But… there's nothing… nothing _for _me. Not here at least. But what is that supposed to mean? That I'll run away? I wouldn't last ten seconds out there… even the best wouldn't last more than a few minutes. At least that's what Max tells me. And I got Ma and Pop to worry about. Ma would let me go anywhere, long as she knew I wasn't crazy when I said I would… but Dad…" He sighed and put his head in his paws. "I've let him down since the day I was born. Ma said he was so happy when he saw me… but now I've driven him to get his throat ripped out in the tourney next week. He is doing this for _me, _after all," he said, sounding as though he was convincing himself more than the drawing above his head. It didn't work either way.

"I've got such a long way to go, and I'm scared… scared of going it alone. Because more and more that's how things are turning out… nobody's even come looking for me, and it's been an hour at least…"

"Timon?" The kit's head slowly lifted, peering down the tunnel where the voice had come from. It sounded like Dinari. What was _he _doing way out back here?

"I'm back here!" he called in return.

"Where?" said Dinari.

"_Here!"_ shouted Timon in answer, getting up in slight annoyance and walking down the tunnel.

"I can't see you!"

"I'm _right here!"_

"Where's 'here?'" Dinari scratched his head as he stalked up and over some roots that had grown into the old tunnel. He popped out several tail lengths behind Timon, but both of them were facing away from each other.

Timon stopped walking and sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Never mind!" he yelled back in what he thought was Dinari's direction, which was opposite to where the younger kit was. "What is it?"

"Me n' Sauda were looking for you!" answered Dinari, cupping his paws around his mouth.

"Why? Wait, Sauda actually wanted to _find _me?"

"Uh… well, no, I did, she just kinda came along. We knew your classes were done an' thought you could use some company! Trip an' Daren got invited to a get-together with a buncha' other guys and Trip said I couldn't come because I don't know what a cullion does an' my brain can't fit all the big guy stuff they were gonna talk about!"

"Well what about _me!"_ answered Timon, sounding extremely perturbed. He was four months and one week old! Shouldn't he be entitled to some of this?

"I dunno! They didn't really mention you! Well, Gamba said it didn't make a difference anyway because you wouldn't know the difference between a support strut and your own-"

"Are you two _done?"_ said a new voice, female, from between the two of them, making them both jump and twist in midair. Sauda stood between them, glaring at them equally by looking back and forth between them, paws on her hips.

"I swear it'll be a wonder if you two ever find someone who's willing to be your girlfriend, let alone your mate."

"Right, right, we're hopeless, I _know," _said Timon sharply. "Believe me; I've gotten more than enough proof of that the past two weeks…"

Sauda watched him carefully, folding her arms across her chest. "Sorry," she said in a clipped tone. Dinari, innocent as he was, simply giggled at how silly he and Timon had acted.

"Gee, I guess that's why we don't score high marks as sentries, huh Timon?" he said with a smile as he closed the distance between the other two. "Anyway, Daren wanted to be here, but Trip was all on about how important getting to be an adult was."

"So Daren dumped you on us," finished Sauda. "The others would kill us if we didn't give you a shoulder to cry on, so… here we are. Well… here's Dinari at least. Obviously, you don't look like you've been having a good time all by your lonesome."

"Oh, trust me, being on my lonesome all I ever wanted for the past month now…" said Timon, hanging his head. Dinari touched him on the arm.

"But then there'd be no time for us, Timon. Everyone needs friends." Timon looked skyward and sighed.

"If you say so," he said. "But I can't depend on friends to make up _my _shortcomings. My dad's already got _that_ position filled," he said with the slightest amount of venom in his voice. He clenched his paws into fists and held them in front of his face. "Just once I'd like to be able to take care of things _myself._ One time where I could do something right by own paws, and not just-"

"Yeah, okay," interrupted Sauda. "Before you start waxing poetic on us, I think it'd be a good idea to get your mind off of all that hard work."

"Yeah, yeah!" agreed Dinari with enthusiasm. "But what are we gonna do in the meantime? Everyone's busy, and Trip and Daren are at that meeting…"

"Whatever it is, it better not be something important," remarked Timon, rather disappointed that he didn't get to break into song about his future or the like. "I just wanna sit down and be where nobody else would ever think to find me right now…"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Uh… this isn't really what I had in mind," said Timon with a raised eyebrow, looking at Sauda with a critical gaze as he tried to keep the one month old kit in his lap from squirming off and hurting himself.

"Oh, calm down Timon," said Dinari, coming up beside him, just finishing slurping down a small worm. "We get free food here!" Timon only rolled his eyes and glared daggers at the younger kit, attempting not to move at all and gain as little attention as possible.

"Dinari, when I said I wanted to be where nobody else would find me, I never said that could include the _nursery!"_ he hissed in a loud whisper. Sauda grinned at Timon's obvious displeasure (some said she was rather sadistic) and sat down to entertain several of the very young with a flower attached to a vine.

"Timon, you just need to lighten up. This isn't nearly as hard as you thought it would be, is it?" Timon snorted and stood up, holding his charge at arm's length. This proved to be a bad idea, since the little one grabbed onto a tree root and tried to swing on it.

"Are you insane? There's hardly anyone _here _besides us, the kits, and the caretakers. And they're all females!" he whined, trying to pry the kit from his perch.

"There's a few males here as well, Timon, you must have seen them," said Sauda with a shake of her head, but Timon's imprecations were just a pinprick on her thoughts right now. She didn't really know why, but being here was one of the few things that made her feel happy. If only the annoying buzz she had brought with her would quiet down…

"Yeah, I did," answered Timon, now dealing with another kit who was trying to nibble on his tail. "And I realized I never want to look them in the eye again! They're the biggest losers this side of… well, me!"

"There's no _shame_ in wanting to bring up the next generation, Timon," answered Sauda, but really she was barely listening. "They're the ones that give us hope. Or so Nanau tells me. Kits are a blessing. The more you have, the luckier you are." All of this she said with a warm smile, watching the kits in front of her tug on the vine and try to eat the entirely tasteless and inedible flower.

Timon yanked his tail away, beset by several very curious youngsters and having a hard time keeping up with what limb was getting pulled in which direction. The first kit that had unceremoniously been plopped into his arms was yanking on his ears. These little guys were _heavy._

"Yeah, not for me. These guys are a headache. Dinari! Help me out here!"

Dinari glanced up from the food stockpile, several different bugs crammed in his small mouth.

"Oh… uh… sorry! I can't hear you over my eating… please do not pass 'Go'?" he said with a shrug, then resumed his activity of staying as far away as possible. Timon groaned, sincerely trying to resist the urge to throw down the bundle in his paws and stalk out. Eventually, one of the other caretakers distracted the kits long enough for him to get a word in edgewise.

"I didn't know you liked kits so much," he said absently to Sauda, who snapped her eyes back to his with raised brows.

"Maybe if you didn't spend so much time pouting in your nest, you'd know everyone a bit better, Timon. You're such an ostrich when you're in danger you'd think you were blind," she said quietly. Timon felt embarrassed and chagrined all at once. He was about to formulate a biting reply, and that his eyesight was perfectly fine, and his neck was in _no way _as lanky and skinny as an ostrich's, when someone said something about leaving for a few minutes, and needing someone to entertain the others with a story. Suddenly Dinari was at Timon's side, tugging on his arm.

"Did ya hear that, Timon? We get to tell a story!" Timon yanked his arm out of the kit's grasp.

"Ohhh, sure, as if I'd ever make a bigger idiot of myself in front of a bunch of google-eyed pipsqueaks. That's the exact wrong accomplishment I wanted to make! I am _not _gonna be the guy who couldn't even handle a day in the nursery!"

"But Timooon! It'll be fun! And think! We can just get up there, make up a bunch of stuff, and when everyone sees what a good job we did, we can get out quick, and you'll even make a good impression for later! I mean, if nothing else works out, you know."

"I've got it!" said Timon, snapping his fingers. "We'll tell them a story, Dinari! We just volunteer like the brave, upstanding citizens we are, make up a bunch of junk for the kiddies, and then when everyone sees how great we are, we take a few ovations, and I'm in good for a part-time job! It's perfect!" Dinari blinked, then decided Timon's idea was better, and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well okay!" Sauda clapped a paw over her eyes.

"No, guys, please, don't disturb the peace-" But Timon was already waving his paw at one of the nearby caretakers.

"Hey! We'll do it! Yeah you! With the crusty face! Storytellers, right here!" He turned to his shorter partner.

"Okay, now, here's what we're gonna do…"

----------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, the two were set up in front of the small audience they had gathered. It consisted mostly of the kits that were too young to leave the confines of the nursery, and couldn't be alone at their burrows. Sauda was sitting in the back, looking like she was wishing that she wasn't here. Timon was looking rather pleased with himself; this was the first time anyone, even if it was just kits, actually paid much attention to him. Maybe this really would be fun… maybe he could make a career out of it! Yes, indeed, this just might be his salvation! It wasn't much, but… it would have to be something for now.

"Okay, okay, everybody just simmer down, now… thank you. Ahem," declared Timon, as he started the story with dramatic flair.

_A long time ago, in a colony far, far away…_

"Mister Timon?" said a small, round-ish kit up in front, who was waving his arm insistently.

"… Yes?" answered Timon testily, but with a forced smile.

"How far away was it?"

"Just what I said. _Far, far, _away."

"But how far is that?"

"Farther than as far as you can see when you look outside."

"Then is it over that hill?"

"No."

"Under that big rock?"

"_No."_

"Around the-"

"Look, kid, it's not that hard! It's not just far, not just very far, but _far, far…**FAR**…_away. Okay?"

"So… it's… farther than far far?"

…_a very special meerkat had been born on a certain day of a certain season. Nobody quite knew what to make of him, and he was nothing special to look at. However… great things were in store for this certain meerkat._

Timon suddenly stood up straighter, and thrust his arm out with a dramatic flourish.

_Let me spin you a story, my little friends, a story of grand adventure, and high danger! A story that began on an ordinary day, for an ordinary meerkat, and for an extraordinary hyena matriarch… the vile… evil! And diabolical… Mordel…mart. Dark ruler of the lands surrounding the peaceful colony, her plans were about to be set in motion for an evil, evil day…_

There was a concerted gasp from the audience as Timon, who was playing the handsome, powerful, suave, and intelligent meerkat hero, clashed sticks with Dinari, who very frightfully played the part of the Witch 'Kat of Hang-far, cowardly servant of Morfumax (the name was changed halfway through act 3 due to confusion on the part of the actors). They growled and shuffled and dueled across the small space they had set up as their stage, with all the drama they could muster. The eyes of everyone was upon them, and they hung on the edge of their seats with wide, wondrous eyes. This was, in fact, the third time the hero and the Witch 'Kat had clashed in their little play, but each time was certainly as exciting as the last.

Timon suddenly gasped theatrically as his stick was flung away to the side, and Dinari slapped him lightly on the paw to signify he had rendered it useless. Timon yelped and fell to the ground, snarling up at Dinari, who smirked triumphantly.

"_Surrender, Hero!" said the Witch 'Kat, his eyes glowing like evil stars as the freezing rain fell about them, and lightning crashed from above. "You are beaten by me, the all-powerful Witch 'Kat! Give up to Morfumax, and join our quest to take over Everything And More!" _

_The hero shook his head still bravely defiant to the last._

"_Never!" he shouted, baring his teeth. "I know what you did! You helped Morfumax take over my home! You imprisoned my father and sent my mother to exile!"_

_The Witch 'Kat grinned an evil grin, and stared deeply into our hero's eyes. The words he spoke would forever burn into our hero's heart!_

"_No, hero… your father was never imprisoned. For I am your father!"_

"_NOOOO!"_

_End scene IV._

Timon and Dinari hopped up, grinning hugely as the audience erupted into cheers and "Encores!" and wild applause.

"Well," said Timon, "sorry to cut that short, but I think we've told enough for today. You've been wonderful! Thank you! Thank you!" Timon drank in the raucous cheers and applause from the crowd, bowing deeply and grinning from ear to ear. Finally he was getting the appreciation he had so craved. At last he was doing something that nobody looked down on him for. At last he-

"Timon," said a voice next to him, poking him insistently on the shoulder.

"Not now, Dinari, I'm appreciating the audience!"

"Timon…" said the voice again, sounding annoyed.

"Thank you, thank you so much…"

"_Timon!" _someone shouted, giving him a hard shove.

"Gah! What!" said Timon, stumbling back as he finally opened his eyes. Sauda stood in front of him, arms crossed. She nodded at the kits.

"Take a look at your wild adorers." Timon looked over her shoulder.

Every kit in the nursery had fallen asleep. The caretakers had long since left, or busied themselves with other activities nearby.

"What the-" Timon stalked forward and looked down at the front row. The kits had all fallen over each other and were sleeping soundly, like their mothers had just sung them lullabies rather than told them frightening epics. Timon sputtered and waved his paws in the air.

"But th-… I thought-! Wh-… why didn't you tell me?" he snapped, turning back to Sauda and putting his paws on his hips. The female shrugged, smirking.

"Well, I have to admit, you _did _keep me guessing about what was going to happen next…" she said, with clear sarcasm pervading her tone. Timon growled and whirled on Dinari.

"What about you?" The younger kit shrugged.

"I was just having fun. I didn't want to disturb you." Timon slapped a paw to his forehead.

"Oy… how long has it been?" he asked Sauda.

"They fell asleep an hour into it," she answered. "I think it was during that exchange with you and the 'stork princess.'"

"And how long have we been going?"

Sauda broke into a grin. "Including the first hour? Three and a half. You guys were really into it."

"But they missed the best _parts!"_ whined Timon. Sauda put a paw around his thin shoulders.

"Well, look at it this way. You did impress the caretakers… nobody else has ever put the kits to sleep that fast before!"

Timon looked skyward and shook his head. "I need to go lie down..." Before he could do that, though, Daren suddenly appeared at the entranceway, mouth open as though he was about to shout. Noticing the kits were asleep, he calmed himself and tip-pawed over the curled balls of slumbering fur.

"Timon," he said in a quiet voice. "Duty calls… or, Max does, at least." Timon, exasperated, threw up his arms.

"Oh, what? Did he finally notice I'm missing?"

"Well, no… he says we're gonna learn synchronized tunneling."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Next up... Timon finds out just how badly he works in groups.

And I'm sorry; I haven't thanked my reviewers yet! Thank you so much! You like me! You really like me! It's true… I love reading reviews. You guys help keep me writing. hands out digital technochocolate


	9. Here We Go Again!

"_Digga tunnah, dig, dig a tunnah, when you're done, you dig another tunnah…"_

"I don't see why they have to sing that _every single time,"_ said Timon, placing his paws over his ears as that tried and true old digging song reached him and Daren as they wandered closer to the tunnels where Max was holding his lessons. Several meerkats, varying in age from adolescents to young adults, were standing in a semi-circle around Uncle Max, who stood with his paws on his hips. Around them, under them, and through them, went the various digging crews, doing their best to ignore everything except the dirt in front of them. Daren, for his part, didn't find this odd at all.

"They gotta keep the rhythm, Timon," he explained as though this was very important, which Timon of course didn't think at all, "we can't just dig willy-nilly, it's a very complex process…"

"Really?" said Timon, giving Daren a sideways glance. "Do either of us understand any of it yet?"

"I do," replied Daren, which Timon somehow did not find surprising at all. "It's really sorta fascinating. See those guys down this tunnel here, propping the support sticks? The way they put them up, we learned last week, is all in the way your partners add their weight to it when they swing around… Toka said the magic touch was a quarter turn to the left at the wrist, really sticks into place. All this stuff we're missing out on! You should be glad we're getting to learn how to help keep everyone else safe."

Timon sighed. As much as he appreciated having Daren around, it definitely wore thin listening to him go on and on about how essential tunnels were. Sure, they kept them from being eaten, or dying of exposure, and gave them comfort when they slept, and helped solidify the community that made sure they survived, but come on... saying they neededthem _every_ day?... That was just unnecessary.

Uncle Max, however, had a very different view on the importance of tunnels and the way they were dug. When the two youngsters came into view, he put on his customized scowl and placed his paws on his hips.

"Tunnel digging waits for nobody, Timon! Especially a pup as unpunctual as you. What took so long, Daren?"

"But I am punctual!" said Timon. "I didn't get that hole from sitting down a stick two days back by being thick-skinned, you know."

Everyone pretty much ignored his little comment, rather used to his ways by now. Daren nudged him with his elbow and turned to Max.

"Sorry sir, he was a little busy in the nur-ow!" He jumped as Timon returned his nudge with considerably more force. Max raised his eyebrow, rather interested in hearing exactly where Timon had been that had kept the two so long in getting here.

"This isn't something important, is it Timon?" he asked slowly. "I certainly wouldn't want to cut in on your private sojourns…"

"What, me? Private?" said Timon with a casual shrug as he and Daren took their place in line. "Don't know the meaning of the word… Nope. Nothing interesting going on in my life."

"Hm. Don't we all know," Max jibed, earning some sniggers and an especially haughty stare from Gamba. Timon noticed him standing a bit on down the line. Daren, to Timon's gratitude, winced and sighed slightly at the snide remark. Max turned to the rest of the class.

"All righty then, you all! It's time we got you synchronized with the main digging teams. You'll be split up into groups and led to your tasks by the team leaders." He pointed to a few adults standing nearby. "Don't wander too far off! Anyone who tries escaping today's lessons will be punished by me personally. This is, as I've told you many times before, is one of the most important things we can learn! You've emulated your parents as kits! It's time to start taking the necessary steps forward to become proper adults! Count off in fives and then move it out!"

Timon raised a cautionary paw.

"What _is _it, Timon?" said Max, eager to get the kit out of his fur and not have to run through another day of failed lessons.

"I thought you could only dig _insi-"_

"**GET MOVING!"**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Timon, young, naïve, and stubborn as he was, was actually fairly impressed at the buzz of activity that the others were able to orchestrate into a smooth, well-oiled machine. Not that he would necessarily call it that, but this seemed to be the first time he had actually looked at what everyone else had been doing. Of course, after about eight minutes of absolutely nothing more exciting than a misplaced patch of dirt, it lost its luster. The instructor had spread them out over several tail lengths in a hallway that was as close to completion as it would get, so the workers had given it up to the lessons. Timon was stationed at the end of the line, off on his own (placed there to make sure he didn't get in anyone's way, no doubt), and soon it wasn't long until he was doing something wrong.

Feeling a tug on his tail, he looked behind him and saw the instructor, a stoic, soft-faced meerkat named Adono, shake his head sadly.

"Timon, that isn't the way to do it. You're completely forgetting the basics I taught you all! Here, you need to watch."

He bent down next to the kit, and began to paw away slowly so that Timon could follow his movements.

"See how to do this? You're digging in too low. That weakens the wall above. We want to widen this tunnel, not bring it down for renovation. Don't push too far in, you'll tire yourself out ripping away like that. Nice, easy strokes."

"Like paddling?" asked Timon, remembering what his father had told him nigh two months back. Adono paused, then nodded with a smile. Maybe Timon was finally catching on.

"Well, I've never paddled before, but yes, I suppose you could say it's like that."

After a few more minutes of Adono rattling off instructions, and Timon nodding obediently where it looked like he was supposed to agree with something (Adono was a nice 'kat, but his voice had a habit of becoming a horrid drone), the older meerkat stood up and went to assist the rest of the class, rushing off with a shout when he saw he had left some of the younger ones alone too long with the support sticks.

Timon rubbed his paws together, and sighed as he began to lazily claw at the dirt in front of him. He didn't really see what was so synchronized about this. Everyone else got to have digging partners! It was just because he was a tunnel klutz, he was sure of it. In all the savannah, who would want to share a tunnel with him? Nobody, that's who.

He continued griping to himself, completely unaware of the downward turn his path was taking.

If only Daren or Trip were here, and they were off playing like they had been able to do just a few weeks ago. Then they would be frolicking, out under the sun… oh, the sun. It was far too dark in here. They needed light to dig, right? Maybe one day, when he got good enough, he'd find a way to bring the light down here from the sky.

Light… sky…. Light. Sky light! Yes! The next great step forward in digging, the greatest-

"AWRP!" yelled Timon as he fell through the floor, landing hard on his head. He flopped onto his stomach, groaning loudly. Stars wheeled around in front of his eyes, making him unsure whether he was sitting up or standing down when he tried to right himself. Wait… was it the other way around? Ah well. He'd find out once he figured out which way the room was spinning. He found himself in another tunnel below the one he had been digging before. He could still plainly see the hole he had powered through to reach this place… this very crowded place. Somebody knocked into him and sent him sprawling again.

"Hey, kid! What are you doing? Get out of the way, this is the rock moving lane!" Timon stood up, and the sound of meerkats singing in beatific harmony blasted his ears. Oh great. He was right in the middle of the one thing he hated most... after messing up another digging project. What a day.

It got worse when somebody shoved a very pointy, very heavy rock into his paws, which he stumbled about with, trying not to step on anyone's tail. The first somebody who had greeted him so warmly snapped instructions to him.

"Well, get your tail moving, make yourself useful if you aren't going anywhere! We want to get this done _before_ the rainy season kid. Take this and get out of the way!"

"Uh, er, right! Yeah! Right away!" answered Timon trying to hobble off with an aching head and full paws. He didn't even know where he was going, and he had apparently tunneled himself right into the forefront of the colony's construction efforts. It took a while to even figure out that this was indeed the case, so confused was the little kit. Dirt flew into his face at every turn, and meerkats who looked entirely self-assured and happy about their work waltzed right by him without as much as a howdy-do. A few stopped long enough to question or get angry with him.

"Ow! Hey! Watch where you're swinging that thing!"

"Whoa! Wrong lane, pup!"

"Watch where you step! That was my tail!"

"Where the heck are you going? We drop those rocks off over there!"

"What's a kit like you doing down here? Wait, I recognize you… hey! I'm talking to you!"

"This way, pup, go with the flow! The nursery is that way!"

Timon smiled bashfully at all those that corrected him.

"Right, sorry, 'scuse me, gotta get through… move it ya mangy… I mean sorry! Sorry! Terribly sorry!"

Between his placations, he was wondering how on earth he was going to get out of here. Why did they have to build these tunnels so convoluted? The rock in his paws was getting heavier every moment. He knew he should have wrestled more as a little one.

Finally, he stopped off at an intersection that seemed to be less congested. He set the rock down and leaned on it, watching from the sidelines as endless lines of his brethren went to work with gusto, singing and hauling and marching in a manner that seemed ridiculously mindless and repetitive to Timon. What was the point? They didn't seem to be accomplishing much. Just hauling the earth around. Even dung beetles did something more useful than this! Shaking his head, he considered trying to question one of the passers-by for directions back up to his assigned station, somewhere on the third level. He grabbed the first meerkat he found.

"Uh… sir? Excuse me, I was just…" He froze in mid-sentence. It was Paki… one of Gamba's gang. For a moment, they both stared dumbly at one another. Then, the older meerkat simply sniffed disdainfully.

"Don't got time for you… go 'way." He turned to leave, a bundle of support sticks bunched up in his paws. Timon stood staring dumbly after him, and then he turned back. Timon finally noticed the bruise over his eye.

"Gamba's somewhere around here," said Paki. "He… well… he's here. That's all," he added, then moved away again without any other comments. Timon stared dumbly after him. For three months that meerkat had done nothing but torment him, and now he walked off without even a sneer? That was sincerely odd. Deciding to make the most of the non-action and the warning about Gamba, he turned to find his own way once more. It was very hard to get lost in the colony; he just hated asking for directions, especially in his own home. Terribly embarrassing.

Before he could take another thought on the matter, he was conked on the head by something hard and fast. Falling to the ground, he narrowly avoided being trampled by the surge of meerkats that was barreling through the tunnel, support struts in paw, some singing, some humming, some blaring the good old work song. The worker who had smacked Timon upside the skull hadn't quite noticed that something was in the way of his regimented digging duties, and summarily tripped over him quiet suddenly, the rest of the line following. Suddenly the once relatively quiet tunnel became a definite hazard as the once smooth line devolved into a writhing mass of fur and angry faces. The knot of at least half a dozen meerkats yelled and scrambled and pulled their way to freedom, with Timon heaving himself up from the bottom, grasping a support stick like a lifeline. He glanced about in confusion, swinging the stick with both paws as he tried to make sense of a world suddenly blanketed with stars.

"Hey, kid!" said a voice behind him. Timon whipped around, the heavy ends of the support flying.

"What!"

**THWACK!**

The sound of something being broken resonated through the tunnel as Timon looked down on a very dazed meerkat, clutching his nose and moaning as he writhed on the floor. Timon, deciding now would be a good time to leave, took advantage of the stunned crowd and flung himself about, looking for an exit. He succeeded only in driving the end of his support into the chin of another meerkat, who also fell heavily to the dirt. The crowd around him had gathered its senses and began trying to remove the kit of the support before he did more damage. More out of confusion than anything, Timon tried to avoid their grasping paws and turn to answer for his clumsiness at the same time.

"Hey, pup, hand that thing over!" shouted one, and Timon twisted to face him.

"But I-!"

**SMACK!**

"You're gonna hurt someone!"

"I didn't-!"

**POK!**

"Will you just give me that thing!"

"I was only gonna-!"

**THUD!**

After a few moments of such confusion, Timon found he had managed only to crack another meerkat in the back of the knee, another on the side of his head, and lastly giving another unfortunate a good stab in the abdomen. Finally one of the others managed to get a grip on the stick. He yanked on it. With pain, guilt, and bewilderment flooding his mind, Timon only jerked right back.

"I said give it to me!" said the older meerkat.

"I can handle it! Just give me some space!" said Timon, feeling relieved when he felt the stick return under his power… but as he was pulling back, he found it meeting yet another obstacle, one that wasn't quite as sturdy as the others.

Crunch.

The entire mob, Timon included, turned slowly to the pained image of Gamba, shocked as though he had been hit by lightning, watering eyes wide as June bugs, and grasping himself between his legs. He went down hard, face-first into the tunnel floor. Timon gave out a small squeaking sound, and looked up to see Tupac standing awkwardly over his fallen leader. Still clutching his offending weaponry, Timon turned to face the rest of the digging crew, who were all staring at him with expressions that ranged from shock to anger to pity, and mixes between the three. Mostly they were angry. Very angry. Furious. Timon grinned disarmingly.

"Well... wow... would you look at that... hope that wasn't a... two for one deal... bye!"

Dropping the stick, he scrambled away as fast as his little legs could carry him, a long train of thought that ran on the single track of "I'm going to die" running through his brain. The meerkats he had left only shook their heads and went to work assisting the injured and trying to get the still immobile Gamba to say something other than the agonized gibberish he was grunting out at the moment.

In the midst of his flight, Timon ran smack into another meerkat, sending the two rolling down yet another tunnel before coming to rest via the hard landing of Timon on a well placed rock jutting from the wall.

"Owwwurrgh…" said Timon as the other meerkat got up and dusted himself off. Timon looked up and breathed in sharply. It was Nyack, Gamba's third brother. He was in for it now. The other youngster was not half as surprised. After only a moment's hesitation, he offered Timon a paw to help him up. The red-head took it graciously, after a couple seconds of staring, holding the small of his back as he twisted the kink out of it.

"Well... wasn't exactly the best way to greet somebody, but I'm glad someone's happy to see me," said Nyack with a wry smile. Timon chuckled in return, scratching the back of his neck as he stuttered to get an answer out. He knew all too well this was one of Mosi's sons... but it had struck him dumb that he too was not actively engaged in mocking him.

"Ahh… yeah. Sorry. Got a little caught up. I was in a hurry to, um… get home for dinner." Nyack raised an eyebrow.

"Dad just told me the sun's only halfway through its cycle…" Timon cleared his throat suspiciously.

"Well, you know, it's not like it's ever too early to eat…" he answered with a silly grin. Nyack put his paws on his hips as he glanced at Timon's none too fit (for a meerkat) figure.

"I can see that…" he muttered. They stopped there and stared at each other, until at last Timon, knowing he wasn't about to be ambushed decided getting out of here was a good idea.

"Umm… which way is… east?" he asked carefully. Nyack pointed wordlessly over Timon's shoulder. He nodded and began backing away.

"Right… thanks." Before he got very far, however, he suddenly tripped on something hard. It was that rock jutting out of the wall that he had fallen on, which had now been fully displaced since Timon stepped on it. Water was beginning to spurt out of the wall around it. But wait… water in the walls? That only meant one thing. Timon remembered back, a long, long time ago, during his first few digging lessons. It was then he noticed a very important detail.

There was moss on the wall. Nyack's eyes widened as the rock began to scootch forward, away from its mooring.

"Err… isn't this the wall that holds back the spri-"

**FWOOSH!**

The rock shot forward and narrowly missed smacking Timon in the legs, dropping to the ground. A jet of water splashed out behind it, powering into the wall and quickly beginning to fill up the small space. When the two were ankle-deep in water, they regained their senses… in a sense. They did what any meerkat kit did when they figured out they had done something sure to get them in trouble: they panicked.

"What do we do! This is terrible! I didn't mean to! What do we do?" yelled Timon over the sound of rushing water. Nyack put his paws up and halted the flow of words.

"Wait! Wait! I think I know! We gotta get it plugged back up! That's all! I think!"

Timon grabbed up the rock and tried to shove it back into place against the steady pressure of the underground spring. It was, of course, to no avail. He could hardly lift the rock, let alone press against the water with it. Even with Nyack jumping in to help, it was useless. The water continued to flow in, only jetting around the sides of the rock when they shoved it into the holeand the breach seemed to be getting bigger. Timon jumped up and began to run. Nyack, still trying to gain leverage against the dirt that was quickly becoming mud, shouted after him.

"Where do you think you're going!"

"I'm going to get help!" replied Timon before disappearing around the corner.

It was some time before he ran across a meerkat he was happy to see indeed: Trip. Timon immediately grabbed his arm and began weaving the two through the digging crews. Trip protested the whole way, but didn't exactly resist Timon's efforts, which he could have easily thrown off.

"Timon! Hey! What are you doing? Leggo! Get off! Where are you going?"

"I'll explain when we get there. Keep your voice down or they'll get suspicious."

Trip caught up to Timon's pace and bent down to speak clearly.

"You didn't find a peeking hole into Misa's den, did you?" he whispered conspiratorially. Timon stopped in mid-stride, turning back to stare at Trip with a very odd look, one eyebrow raised ridiculously high.

"Who's Misa?" he asked innocently. Trip realized that this wasn't really what he had thought Timon had been talking about, and stood up slowly, looking anywhere except at the pup in front of him.

"Ah… right. I thought so. Um… lead on."

Along the way, Daren caught up with them, surprised as well to find Timon so far from his schooling area. Without a word, Timon began leading him as well.

When they had reached the scene of the disaster, Nyack was up to his knees in fresh spring water (he was kneeling, and the break was in the middle of a dip, but it was still becoming worrisome). He looked up at the others, sopping wet, basically trying to shove himself up against the wall and plug the hole with his own behind.

"I lost the stopper! Help me out here!" The other three ran forward, Daren waving his arms frantically.

"What the heck did you guys do!" he asked in a panic. Timon pointed at the hole which water was still spurting out of.

"We did that, obviously!"

"We? Who's we?" said Nyack. "You're the one who fell on the stopper!"

"Forget all that!" said Trip, sloshing forward to observe the damage.

"We gotta get this hole plugged up before someone hears all this!" agreed Daren.

"That's the problem, the rock is missing!" said Timon, frustrated that not even Daren could quite figure out the solution either. Trip smacked Timon in the shoulder.

"Forget the rock, plug the hole!"

"**_I CAN'T PLUG THE HOLE WITHOUT THE ROCK!"_** said Timon, shaking Trip by the shoulders. Daren put his paws over his eyes.

"All right, all right, calm down! Trip, find the rock, keep an eye out! Nyack, Timon, try to collapse some of the tunnel from the top! We need to find a way to stop this up before it floods!"

"It's already flooding!" said Timon, who was shushed instantly by the others. Trip looked back up the tunnel as the others frantically tried to tear off dirt from the other walls and stuff it into the break, which of course wasn't working in the slightest. In fact, in their efforts, especially Timon's, the wall holding back the spring was beginning to weaken significantly. If he wasn't panicking, Daren might have told him to stop, but then Trip's voice hailed them again.

"Someone's coming! What do we do?"

"We need to tell them, obviously! We can't get this by ourselves!" said Daren, pressing against the jet of water with his bare paws. The water was quickly reaching up to his thighs.

"What's going on down there? Is there a break in the spring? Who's there?" All of the kits stood bolt upright. Only one voice spoke like that… Shombay himself was coming to investigate! All of the youngsters looked to Daren for guidance, who put his paws to his temples.

"Okay, I think I got an idea! It's dark, and we should be strong enough…"

Shombay stalked down the tunnel with a murderous expression on his face. If some blockhead had been stupid enough to remove the stopper from its anchor, the whole tunnel would have to be collapsed and built around again. More delays. He hated delays. Most of all he hated the stupid people that caused delays. But that was why he was mob leader… he knew how to keep people from making such disastrous errors. As he stepped into the tunnel that held the four pups, he beheld a curious sight.

Waist deep in water, and soaked to the bone, all four of the kits were propped up against the wall, Trip sitting with his back up against it, his bottom sticking into it slightly, and the others pressing or leaning on him at awkward angles. They seemed to be straining to hold all of the dirt in place. Shombay knew instantly what had happened, but instead crossed his arms and stood up straighter. Judging from the structural damage already inflicted, those kits were the only ones who were holding it in place. This seemed like it would take some precise timing.

"What… have you boys… done?" he asked quietly. Daren chuckled quietly and almost stepped forward, but Trip started to be pushed forward, and he returned to leaning on the older male.

"Oh, well, you know… not much. Just kinda taking a break."

"We thought we could try an indoor watering hole for once!" piped up Timon with the best answer he could think up at the moment. Water began to squirt out around his arms. Shombay glanced at the rivulets beginning to break through the wall around them. He pointed in the direction he was facing.

"When I tell you to," he said calmly, "get your furry tails away from the wall… and run."

He took a step forward, keeping a careful eye on the quickly failing wall.

"Now!"

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It took almost three hours, but at last the tunnel was secured. The problem had quickly gotten much larger than previously expected. The two chambers the tunnel was connected to had to be filled inTimon was hiding as far back as he could in the small crowd that was watching the reconstruction efforts. The others were standing apart from each other, all of them looking down and very concerned. After some confused blabbering and explaining to the adults, it was decided that, of course, Timon the tunnel klutz was the main source of the disaster (which he sort of was, even if by total accident). Daren and the rest had done their best to stick up for him, but it was to no avail. Finally, Max's voice floated (or rather bulled) its way up into the chamber.

"There! We got it! All right, where is he! **_TIMON!"_**

The aforementioned kit stood up slowly, his legs feeling like jelly. Here came the rainy season. He smiled meekly up at the cloudy, dripping wet face of Uncle Max.

"Ahh… hey, Uncle Max," he said, shuffling his paws in the dirt. "What's the word?"

"It's the end of the world as you know it," was his grim answer. Timon, ever the jokester, grinned, still daring to look his uncle in the eye.

"Oh… well… good thing I had an extra large breakfast."

Nobody laughed.

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A/N: Well. Our hero is in quitea pickle this time! Next... the winds of change begin to blow, and an old rivalry is getting that much closer to being settled...

Review. Now. I command thee. does a Force wave


	10. Not So Calm Before the Storm

A/N: Whoa… it's been what? A few months, maybe? I am very sorry. The joys of a young man before college. Euurgh. Gives me the jibblies… whoo… there they go again.

Anyway! On with the story. I hope you find it both pleasantly humorous and positively heart breaking in the chapters to come. We all know a certain disaster has to happen sooner or later… and if anyone notices any continuity errors, do tell me so I can fix them.

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_Four days after the flooded tunnel incident…_

Timon hadn't bothered to show his face for days after the last time he had been blamed for another disaster. A whole shift had to be reorganized, three workers had been down for a couple days from the walloping Timon had given them, and Gamba was out for blood ever since he had recovered from the crushing insult to his malehood. There had been consequently no reason for Timon to let anyone find him, much less talk to him. It wasn't as though anyone wanted to anyway, what with the excitement over the tournament going on the past week. It had been a convenient distraction after the embarrassment Timon yet again besmirched the colony with.

His mother was worried sick, he knew that much. For a couple of days she had been convinced he had run away. But every time she or one of his friends had tried to approach him once he was discovered in some remote part of the colony, he had dashed off once again to hide.

It was hard to want to go home again when one was convinced their home didn't want them anymore. Danso had gotten wind of the flooding incident after dealing with an accidental (but minor) cave-in, and hadn't been in the best of moods when Timon had finally gathered the courage to face his parents again.

Fortunately, he had controlled himself as best as he could when Meeca jumped into the fray, ordering them both outside for a nice 'father son' conversation before dinner.

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"Timon, come up here."

"But Dad…"

"Timon, I said come up here!"

"Feeling brave tonight?" mumbled Timon as he followed his father into the light of the setting sun.

"I heard that, kit. Tonight's no night to get smart, Timon; you're in enough trouble as it is."

Timon, despite being almost five months old, cringed heavily. He hadn't meant for Danso to hear that. Stepping up the pace, he jumped up behind his father, who spoke quickly and confidently, averting his anger with lecturing.

"Timon, I don't think there's ever been a day when I was more disappointed in you," he began, jumping onto a rock and taking up a sentry position. Timon flagged his arms helplessly.

"Dad… it's just a tunnel… it's no different than all those other times."

"You destroy more than that, Timon," said Danso, turning to look at his son sharply as he led him up the small hill on the colony's flank. "When you bring down a tunnel, you bring down our livelihood. Our hard work, our history, Timon! You bring down our chances of survival!"

Timon sighed. It was obvious his father wasn't quite as upset as he could have been, so he was feeling far more talkative than usual.

"Aww, Dad, I know these are important… but why do they have to be all we're proud of? Why not find something that'll let us do more than hide? Where's our… our strength Dad? We're small, but… so are snakes!"

"Snakes have poison fangs, Timon," replied Danso, raising an eyebrow. "The best we can come up with is a very odd chittering noise."

"I know that, Dad! But come on! Whoever decreed we can't be better than we are now? Why don't we ever stand up and fight? Where's our pride, where's our -"

Swish!

"Get down!"

Danso jumped at the slight rustle of grass, leaping on Timon and pushing them both to the ground below the grass line.

For several moments, all was quiet, and then a small rabbit hopped over the two, taking a moment to sniff innocuously about in front of the two meerkats before disappearing once again.

"-dignity," finished Timon flatly, speaking against the dirt his chin was mashed into by his father's grip. Danso sighed and pulled them both up, dusting himself off with all the self-confidence he could muster.

"Son… let me tell you something about dignity."

Pulling Timon back up to their perch, Danso rested one paw between Timon's shoulders and held the other out towards the vast savanna before them.

"Now… look, Timon."

"Dad, Max already said it wasn't my sight that was the problem-"

"Just humor me a minute, okay son? Just… look, Timon. At it all. Look out to the horizon… past the trees… over the grasslands… towards it all… everything the light touches…!"

And look Timon did. It was a beautiful sight to be sure. The light flowed over the horizon like a tide crashing into the shore… not that Timon would realize that, having never seen the ocean. The gold of the waning sun seemed to set the world aflame, but with a warm glow, nothing hostile. It was breathtaking, now that he was given time to really reflect on it. A smile began to creep onto the youngster's face. This view seemed to affirm his existence. Despite that, one question still lingered in his mind. What was over that horizon? It certainly looked brighter than here…

"Belongs to someone else."

Timon felt something come to a screeching halt in his head. The reality of his father's statement came crashing down, and his shoulders slumped, and his eyes became hooded. Danso, noting the sudden change of mood, patted his son sympathetically.

"Ahh, I'm sorry Timon, but… that's the way things are. It's what we were made to be."

Timon got one last good look at the brilliant panorama, and did a quick about face, spreading his arms as he launched into his long awaited monologue, figuring the mood was about right for it. It was something he had wanted for quite a while. He had rehearsed these lines to himself day after day! Surely his father would be able to understand him now that he was old enough to relate his ideas. Today was going to be different… it always felt that way when he looked out to the sun and had his hope restored.

"But that's just what I'm sayin', Pop! Who says we're built to be brunch? Who says we're just a bunch of morsels on legs? I sure don't! And we shouldn't either! I'm telling you, Dad, we can do it! What's stopping us? We've even done it before already! All we need to do is stand up for ourselves! We need to stand up for each other! What about that time you told me the colony managed to fight off a whole pair of adders that were trying to use our tunnels as a nesting area? What about the time that Ma told me about when Max chased off a monitor just by smacking it on the nose? And what about Fearless Buzz? Why do we still sing songs about how brave he was? Isn't it about time we showed everyone else out there that it's not how big your teeth is, it's the size of the heart?"

Danso finally snapped himself out of the daze he had been in when Timon displayed his uncharacteristic eloquence, and wagged his paws in the air, cutting his son short.

"Now Timon… Timon! You have to understand a few things! We can't all be heroes, Timon! Those adders got chased off because they weren't hunting us. Max's monitor was hardly your size. And Timon…"

He knelt down and put his paws on his son's shoulders, trying to be as tender as possible.

"Fearless Buzz is _dead._ And I don't want to see you kill yourself chasing after something that's just going to turn around and bite you later… literally! Buzz got himself killed because he went outside the boundaries. Out of the tunnels that keep us safe, Timon! That keeps you safe! We're proud of these tunnels, because it's _who we are._ It's ours, and nobody else's! That's not something to be ashamed of! We dig those tunnels and it's an accomplishment, not a burden! Son… we dig those tunnels because we _love _you."

"You just dig those tunnels because you're afraid of everything!" said Timon before he could stop himself.

There was a long moment of silence as father and son stared at each other, Timon regretful, and Danso thoughtful. They looked away from each other, bitterness in their eyes.

Suddenly, Meeca popped out of a nearby tunnel, holding several squirming insects on a large leaf.

"Dinner time! The boys in the scouting department managed to rustle up a huge batch of termite larvae! I knew you two would be hungry after talking."

Danso sighed and turned away, arms akimbo.

"Termites again!" he snapped.

"It's good for the upper body strength," replied Meeca calmly. "You'll need it for your upcoming match with Mosi. It is tomorrow, you know…"

"Holy smokes, you're right!" said Danso, smacking a paw to his forehead and dodging past his mate. "I gotta get back inside…"

"Oh, courage deserting you already?" answered Meeca pointedly, nodding back to Timon, who was looking rather lost and desolate at the moment, his eyes wide and shoulders slumped. The sight would have broken anyone else's heart, but not Danso's. Not after what had just transpired. He looked back, about to say something, but then his eyes narrowed again.

"Max has some last minute techniques to show me," he said. "And there are _tunnels _to attend to."

He walked away.

"Was I adopted?" asked Timon, plopping down onto the rock and rolling his eyes. Meeca sighed and clambered up next to him, deftly keeping the leaf tray from tipping too far in any direction. She grabbed his cheek and tugged at it playfully.

"Oh, Timon… you two are like night and day!" She shook her head mournfully. "I remember the days when you and your father were so much closer… funny to think that was only a few months ago."

"I just don't see why nobody understands what I have to say…" Timon said desperately, spreading his arms.

"Honey…" Ma began lightly, "your ideas, well… they're just a little odd to people. It's hard for them to change something they've lived in for so long."

"Even if it kills them?"

"Especially if it kills them," answered Meeca with a wry smile.

"OW!"

They turned to see Danso hopping about on one foot several feet away, holding his foot paw and cursing under his breath. He appeared to have stubbed his toe on a rock.

"Didn't I tell you!" he shouted at his family. "It's a jungle out here!"

"See what I mean?" continued Meeca. She wrapped her arms around her son, who had a thoughtful look on his face.

"But don't worry, sweety… everyone has a place somewhere. Things'll get better. You'll see. I know that no matter what choices you make, and no matter what ideas you have, you'll always make us proud… because we love you far too much to ever be ashamed of you."

"Even Dad?" asked Timon quietly, leaning up against the reassuring safety and warmth of his mother.

"Even Dad." Meeca gave him an extra squeeze, and then dropped back down towards the colony.

"I better go make sure Danso doesn't overdo it with Max… he's bound to be uptight about his match tomorrow."

"D'ya think Dad'll win?" Timon asked. Meeca turned back to him with a calm, benevolent smile.

"Timon… he's Dad."

Timon blinked, then turned away with a smile.

"Oh, yeah…" Meeca continued moving off. Her voice floated back up to him from the tunnels.

"Don't stay up too late now!"


End file.
